Poem - The Dentist

From Robert Lee Brewer's blog, here's the prompt for today's poem:

Put yourself in someone (or something) else's skin and write a poem about the experience. Who (or what) ever you become, please make that the title of the poem. If you're Buddy Holly, your poem should be called "Buddy Holly." If you're the Bates Motel, your poem should be called "Bates Motel." And so on.

I have to go to the dentist later this afternoon and get some major drilling done. Wish me luck! My dentist is a nice woman, but I nonetheless hate dentists generally. What better skin to step into?

The Dentist

When I glance up from the drill
I see the iris of his eye
contracting.

As blue as the scrubs
my hygenists wear
but with a pinpoint
a black hole.

a falling into darkness
a window to nowhere
a shrill whine
the scent of burning tooth

I squint despite the protective eyewear
as dust from the molar
coats his tongue.

the back of a throat is also black
unknowable
Up into the brain
Down into the heart

But the tooth lies beneath my fingertips.
I've made it white