I was probably right to be nervous,
lying on my back, looking up at her,
when she began to smear Vaseline
all over my lips.

I grew very tense as she pushed, prodded, and
tried to work herself into the proper spots.

I gave myself orders:
Be loose.
Don’t forget to breathe.

She kept at it with force,
with determination.

She knew what she wanted to accomplish;
all the cooperation she needed from me
was that I stay still and let her work her magic.

My tongue had gone numb, but I thought I tasted blood.
When it was over, she gave me antibiotics.
She’ll take my stitches out in two weeks;

my gums should heal up nicely.

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