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Teeth
My family has 5 different sets of teeth. My dad’s teeth are like stones, mostly rounded, rough, and slightly grey. My teeth, my teeth are slightly crooked. Always fighting for space. Nate’s teeth are sand blasted and dry. Always parched for water. Sabrina’s teeth are small tic-tacs; there, but barely.
But my mom’s teeth, my mom’s teeth, like the Andes mountains, like perfectly white pearls, pure white and blinding because she brushes and whitens all day, cold to the touch when she kisses you, kisses you and you feel loved. The cold smell of mint and winter that tickles your nose, the smell of foolhardy laughing and vacations, and you sit near her, the snow gently falling outside and the fire roaring. The roaring, the snow, and Mom’s teeth that smell like winter.
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