Teeth will befriend me
as they push those front ones out
expose up to canines
show those molars for what they are:
masticators waiting in abeyance
whose intent to crush is ever present.
A snarl will warn you if you face me.
The vowels emitted by my grin
will be different when encountered
sideways, where the droop
of lip and shift of eyebrow
will benefit only frontal attack
the slip of thick concerned tongue
into cheek already an indication
that this episode of battle
will go broken on your face.
A smirk lightens your tense eyes.
My spike bites into your forehead.
