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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.

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