i open my mouth and lift my tongue to hide you inside. you will have to sit to the left of the banjo and my dad's sweater, they were there first. i promise not to cough too hard so not to muss up your pompadour. i ask A to hold the hot sauce. i know how it makes you sneeze. in the mornings i will let you sit against my incisors to watch traffic against the breakfast colored sun. everyone will tell me i need to come to terms, i can't hide you forever, a mouth is not a suitable place to keep you; but their panda faces will blur into the glass of warm milk i drink before i hand you the night quilt. please don't try to crawl out through the gap in my teeth. i would miss that full mouth feeling.