The Empty Space

Last night, I dreamt that I'd lost a tooth. In the dream I pushed my tongue into the hole, worrying the space through the night. Upon waking, I ran my tongue over my teeth just to be sure it was a dream, and that all were intact.

Dream analysts probably have theories about missing teeth dreams. I don't care for these so I will not seek them. It's the space, rather than the missing tooth that intrigues me. It's like the idea upon drifting off to sleep that you can't quite recapture in the morning. It's the brilliance after your fourth beer that later reveals itself to be ridiculous or worse, unoriginal.

Is the hole some gap I'm trying to fill with words, friends and work? Or is it just a symbol of the boy, who has left us for a week, leaving an empty space at the table?