In my dream, flossing was a kind of prayer

I'm standing in a chapel made of porcelain, and everyone around me is flossing in slow motion, eyes closed, like they're in a trance. The floss glows faintly as it slides between their teeth, and when I look down at my own hands, I'm holding a toothbrush like a candle. Nobody speaks, but somehow I know we're all asking for the same thing — no cavities, no pain, just that clean feeling that lasts. It felt holy in a way I can't explain, and I woke up genuinely disappointed that brushing is just brushing.