somewhere, wedged between my back molar and the gumline, are the remaining scraps of you

leaching acrid memories into my mouth:

how readily I ate from your palm

how I sucked each unfurled finger clean of every meager crumb of intimacy.

working you free is a painstaking process of bloodied wire and sore tongue

of gagging over the sink while rotted leftovers taunt me from the basin

I will scrub you out.