Sonnet CXCII

That day was dim and filled with crude remorse.
“I don’t want braces!” one could hear me pout,
but nonetheless, they took the spacers out.
I lay sprawled out while tools had screamed and roared.

Then I remembered, early on, before,
my teeth grew fast and fast they fall right out
and Mom had said, without a swaying doubt,
that all my teeth were pearly white - and more.

But then I fell at Sea World, chipped a tooth.
The poor replacement squeezed the rest around.
But sitting, flipping through a book of hues,
the times with braces in my head were found
and almost sad, I chose the solemn blue
retainer. Then my braces came right out.