Assorted Chocolates

chocolate box

Each piece in the Colonial Assortment
is an uncharted island
shrouded in a brown paper;
a sweet shop case of lily pads
from which you hop
flavor to flavor.

Salted Almond Caramels
are tropical beach getaways,
South Pacific whitewash at your toes,
an endless horizon of
Ganache Bliss, the mountain
sleeping behind you
under Scotchmallow skies.

Raspberry Creams
are the velvety blonde hairs
on your lover’s suntanned neck;
Butterschotch lollies,
the sensation on your tonuge
of his still warm skin and
and late night swims
with Praline Turtles.

But Vanilla Walnut Fudge is daybreak,
a well-deserved stomach ache.
And for gluttonous mistakes,
Peanut Butter Patties
take the cake.

Dark Bordeaux is a bloody ritual,
the jungle night dithyramb,
the cannibal’s matrimonial
the last dance of the native virgins
before the slave traders’ run.

Bridge Mix has an aftertaste like
giardia at summer camp which
makes you shiver and wretch.
Ginger Clusters are gymnasium-spiced,
with notes of square dancing
and the smell of sticky hands.

Inside the Cocoanut Creme
the texture of childhood
goes stale, killing you softly
abandoning you to years
of Brittles and Toffees.

Mint Meltaways are nice like
Greenland’s shrinking ice;
Polar Bears Paws (nuts and
nougat in white chocolate,
oft called Bons Bons of Extinction)
are delicious to Tamora
as Chiron and Demetrius.

Nuts and Chews are a plate of
oily noodle kugel on the table
stuffy sitting rooms of aunts
talk politics and cataracts
at the party where you chew
in closet with the coats
hoarding chocolates from your sister
every minute getting sicker.

The remaining Rum Nougat
is the bitterest pill of all, stinking like
the Old Colonial’s sour breath
too close to your nose
inhaling when he proposed,
then sent one to your father
for Christmas as a gift in exchange
for a mouthful of silence.

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