Let stale air whistle through cracks, like the tooth you chipped on embroidery needles that night you patched pants to wear on a first date.
Try to forget the taste of powdered bone and fluoride, drill bit between your lips. Ask the god-who-is-dentist: won’t you reach inside my skull and make me sparkly again?
Count the parts of the skeleton you can clean. Tilt your head beneath spigot of sink—drink. Drink and drink.