I am ten and we are staring
at an episode of Law and Order
when a Twix commercial comes
on. The burgundy sofa transforms
into a golden, crinkly wrapper. I demand
the $1.07 I need to purchase
a chocolate candy
bar. She lifts her glass
eyes and out of a drunk fantasy
she is having of abundance, an endless world
of green trees and ample faces,
waves to our worn wallet. Even though we have diddly-squat
in the bank, I fold into the sweet, crispy Twix
the way a nun folds in a chapel, thanking God
for her bounty. My teeth slide
through the cacao layer. To awaken her,
my caramel-slick tongue puffs
cocoa powder into her face. The two
cookie sticks are my new lungs,
but I still can’t breathe.
Sometimes I wake up with chocolate in my mouth.
Amanda Talbot is a freshman working toward a major in Spanish with a minor in Portuguese. She plans to become a polyglot translator somewhere abroad upon. She has also been published in various online and print literary magazines, as well as received awards and honorable mentions for her poetry and essays.