“You’re teeth are too dry,” the old women said.

“Sometimes teeth need to be oiled,” she added

As she rattled over to her cupboard and produced 

A small stone crock with a wooden lid.

She popped the seal and dug two 

Of her bent fingers down deep into the jar.

“Bring your mouth over here,” she commanded.

I hesitated, very unsure. 

“What IS that?” I asked.

“You wanna keep your teeth?” she answered.

“Yes,” I managed to say. I did want that.

“Then bring your mouth over here.”

She only stood four feet away,

But made no move to come to me.

I was only two feet from her front door,

And in my mind, I tried to weigh my options.

If I turned and escaped this medicine,

I would be a full day walking back to town

.........with a toothache.

But I didn’t seem to want to take 

The cure from out of this old hag’s jar.

It was starting to drip from her two fingers.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

I stood dumb, like an animal.

“Aughhh!” she grunted in disgust

Her two fingers headed for her own mouth.

“No, wait!” I exclaimed,

But, too late.

I stepped toward her just as she

Larupped her fingers around in her mouth.

“Mmmmmmmm,” she said. “That sure is good!”

I stood just before her now.

“I do need my teeth oiled, please,” I told her.

She took those same two fingertips

And dipped them back into the cream.

I opened my mouth,

And she proceeded to rub the fat

All over my teeth, until they squeaked

In cleanliness and humectant sheen.

“That IS good,” I thought to myself,

Tasting the fresh, nutty flavored fat,

But I didn’t say anything.

-jenn