After the Toothbrush

I lie in a bed of darkness, my tongue searching my mouth.
I lie there in darkness, my tongue translating grit of language on my teeth.
I lie there in darkness, eyes closed, tongue translating.
I lie there. My mouth opens its darkness to darkness.
I lie there and feel the ancientness of toothpaste like a desert.
I lie there in dark and feel its desert seeking wet of my mouth.
I lie in dark and think how each night toothpaste erases more.
I assist at polishing myself away. I will surely disappear over centuries
like the Sphinx under the ravages of this lightly-flavored sand.