Pug's Dilemna

The reflection of skin- I, aging
Battle-worn fingers and bones agreeing
Teeth and hairless and oh, eyes all but now used up
Who’s teeth are these in this weary windy plane?

Without planning it
it came unbidden

the grooves are deep and soft and easy and round
at the edges- it would be so simple to simply
fall out and wash away with a tide
but fear and fatigue and simple samesame
keep me here, always.

or maybe, we are just afraid
of disappearing all at once
instead of gradually.