Shedding teeth -

I miss the childhood ritual of teeth. The days of skin loosening from bone, my tongue testing the soft hinge of letting go.

The thrill of it. The moment I could finally pull freedom straight from my own mouth.

Blood rushing in, warm and honest, a red proof that this was ending and other things had space to move in.

I miss the smooth fresh gap, my tongue gliding through the absence like a doorway.

Maybe adulthood will have its own moltings. A shedding we earn, a pain we outgrow.