fine white teeth

it was a simple dare
i never asked where they got them from
possibly plucked fresh from cadavers
soft gums left wanting
with the impressions of what was stolen
more likely retrieved from under pillowcases
trading heavy half dollars
for the sight of them slipping down my throat
blending in with the slosh of skim milk
i need to take my pills
even when they are hard and small and white.

they thought i’d choke
their guess collecting, puddling, reflected in their eyes
and i could watch it glistening
as i took them whole into my body
one gulp and gone.

wonder exchanged for horror
as that slick half dollar disappeared with the teeth
they threatened to retrieve them
stick broken off branches into my mouth
until i either puked
and they could get them from my mottled pink sick
or they would flip them out one by one
caught in the fork of the branch
and arced back up and out
but i would just click my tongue
           swallow again.

fine white teeth

they are mine now
even if they haunt my stomach
they are mine now
for as little or as long as they shelter in my body.