Flossing my life away

I'm standing in the bathroom, watching myself floss,
floss my life away-
tooth, by tooth, by tooth I floss,
getting every crevice and cranny and nitty little sugar bug,
lest they cause a hole in my precious canine.
It's not really a big deal to me, I suppose,
whether I have perfectly clean teeth or not,
but my job requires it,
my dentist recommends it,
and my friends appreciate my decent breath.
In goes the floss,
out comes the gunk
again,
and again,
and again,
and again tomorrow.
Why we do these repetitive things, I don't know, but
we do.
And not to sound depressing,
but I know my nails will chip tomorrow,
and I'll have to dip dip dip into
the hundred dollar stash of colored goo sitting atop my "beauty shelf."

The Smoke That Dances From My Smothered Candle

The smoke that dances from my smothered candle

Moves in ways

That seduce my sleepy eyes

As I watch it bend

Turn,

Twirl

Its hips to the sway of the air.

I follow the sensual movements of the dead flame

With tired intrigue that will not leave.

The luscious curves and shapes

Of the slim smoke trail 

Climbs up, up, until it lies down on my ceiling,

Leaving a scent of vanilla lust about the room,

Until the smoke dance fades

And breaks my beautiful trance,

Bidding me find another love,

And rest my weary head.