Gums, Glass, and a Word with Two Meanings
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Dawn, Dentures, and Double Entendre
I greet the morning with gum-bright bravado—my dentures doze in their cloudy glass, fizzing like a tiny storm. On the stoop, a basket of lemons, yellow as choir robes.
Life says, “Pucker up.” I say, “No—party up.” The list begins:
- Lemonade, soft cakes, laughs gentle on knees.
- A banner in loopy cursive: The Lemon Party.
- Chairs that forgive the spine.
Somewhere on the street, a laugh I don’t recognize clacks like dice in a cup. Party, I remind myself with a grin. A festive one. Right?
What first?