Love Me Like a Dentist
by Holly Day


I live to have you paw me

with your greasy fingers, your instruments

the tiny flashlight that slips inside

the tightest places—light me up like a Christmas angel

in the hands of a bad boy, skirt pushed up

around my neck, feet locked in the icy stirrups

of my favorite chair. I like to pretend

you’re just some wicked sick machine

pistons pushing in, pulling out—“Does this hurt?

Does this?” I close my eyes against the overhead light

and think of metal insects fucking as your sticky

fingers gently pull my dress back down, smoothing out

the wrinkles in the cloth covering my breasts

sighing almost reluctantly

as if you, too, wished this appointment

would never end.
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About Holly Day:
Holly Day is a travel writing instructor living in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with
her husband and two children. Her most recent nonfiction books are Music
Theory for Dummies, Music Composition for Dummies, and Walking Twin
Cities.