top of page
POETRY
In the Spirit of Christmas
Tiffany Troy
00:00 / 01:04
Oh my love, you are quite the looker,
quite the opposite of me—we are the same only
in that neither of us is Black or White
enough to pass, you with your golden foil
I peel off eagerly and crumble
so thin, me with my thick doubloon-hued
sponge of skin within which I deposit you, having forsaken
a dozen of you (so far) in the spirit of Christmas,
cheap gift that you are to me, but O you do bring back
memories I had to kill by presenting a pair of you to each of my
comrades, because to be a Twinkie means self-
discipline, though I lust for that hazelnut cream hidden in you
so luxurious, that even as my skin flares up, I lick my tongue and smirk
having stolen you back from that fool who knows not what you represent
Tiffany Troy is a critic, translator, and poet.
bottom of page