Who Was That Masked Woman?

We meet regularly.
She sees in me what
no one else has, can,
could or should.
Her time is expensive,
so I recline on her couch
and she sits at my side.

She speaks and
I listen, but her
words are masked
and her lips are hidden.
She speaks words and
sounds unheard by me.
If only I could
read the subtitles!

There’s so much
I want to tell her, but
my tongue’s
numb and dumb,
twisted, and tied.
If only she’d
let me speak!
Dialog with my dentist
is slow and painful,
with few words
and many signs.

I force a twisted smile,
when at last we’re done!
I pay her fee and
rise from her couch.

That masked woman was my dentist!

Ouch!