My teeth fall out, & yours.The sun, I say, so much sun, I say, then you.As if it were new, this way we echo. This road in June.At the light, you pull down the mirror to check your teeth.As if it were new, this light shedding light till we’re the ones wearing itchy layers of gold.I know the dentist was only trying to help, but I didn’t like how he kept talking about the future.How is it that we were those exact ages when we met?The sun: a big tooth in a very big mouth. A tooth on fire & its pain makes every smile possible.23 & 29.June, as if it were a new word, another word for “skin.”The dentist pulled out the future, hurting my eyes.My eyes / your back / our future / our teeth.As if it were new, how it hurts to look at the road, at each other.& why not? Everyone ever in love has said the same sunny my only while on some road in June, hurting so giddy & wearing such light.Our deaths vs. our death.I thought I would get older & stop thinking, I’m going to live forever.At one point, I saw our dentist falling to his death on a sunny sidewalk in an affordable neighborhood.A pack of dogs gathered & their teeth shone & I wondered who their dentist was.I thought I would get older & stop feeling, I can’t go on another day.28 & 34.You laugh & it occurs to me that laughter never grows old.Even the sun grows old, the light. But not laughter, not yours.