My dentist told me that I grind my teeth while sleeping,
and I am not entirely sure if I should be upset or relieved.
I know my endless craving for affection has been tiring
for quite some time now, and if you ask me if I am dead
inside, then I may well be, but that one random remark
could make all the difference. You see, I thought I had
to grit my teeth to keep from giving her the satisfaction.
It turned out that, while she enjoys the Riviera, the one
who gives a damn is the quiet man with a handpiece.