A toothbrush thrown
Over the top
Of an apartment
Tells the story
Of the end
Of a love
Better than this
Poem could ever.
*
The toothbrush twists
In the air
In ways which dentists would not recommend
But have nonetheless wondered about
And probably tested
Because there it goes
Moving unperturbed
As though it were always meant to be there
With its green gelpads
And its yellow bristles
A testament to
What it is
To be alive
In a Universe that isn’t –
To fly
Only to fall
Later.
Does it hit someone?
Does it drop in their mouth?
There is no sound.
–
Did it land at all?
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