Death by Chocolate
Trapped in caged bars, he prods and pokes around. Lumps and bumps surround this strong naked muscle. The tongue flicks and darts; it runs like honeysuckle, and only hides at the sight of rockets or dandelions. His desires make your bad habits. Each bite gnaws and shreds the insides of your raw mouth, until you can no longer feel the hollows of your cheeks. A silent sickness, but you’re diagnosed with denial. Until your teeth start to dribble down the edges of your lips, and your gums corrode into a puddle of viscera. When you enter the room, the taste of anesthesia and syringes hang like a heavy rain cloud in the air. A stack of sterilized silver, awaits your arrival. The smell of molars and canines renders you immobile, and the bubble gum on the bottom of your shoe nails you to the floor. A piercing light illuminates the decayed void. The tongue pleads. Incisions on incisors; he shrivels at the stench of blood, blood, blood, blood, coming from your sandpapered mouth. Water spews out of The Fountain of Youth, where he bathes. Licking his lips, he devours the cotton balls. His renewal is a cause for celebration. Maybe a nibble of death by chocolate. Or a bite of the Devil’s food cake. He thinks he can’t go to hell for this. You slowly part your lips, almost. But you catch your tongue.
Vivian Lau is a first-year international student in the College of Arts & Sciences at Boston University. She was born and raised in Hong Kong, where her family and dog still live. You will most likely find her at gymnastics practice or in her room, snacking and watching TV.