For a Tear

Lovely dentist, so young, with fever.

Just a sore, you said, but alas, much more.

A swollen blitzkrieg over lip, cheek, eyes, then scalp,

Morning smile turned noontime nightmare,

Third nadir’s unfair haunting.

So hurry with tubes, drips, then a cycling whir,

In hopes a returning tear can anoint your brow.