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  • Gary Hunter

Aunt Marge (circa 1959) May 11, 2020

She pulls a flat pan from the fridge

crinkle flash sunlight

skitters off crumpled foil

Both sneakers squeak as my nose and one

hand leans into a cut square and lifts

Lips smother it's cool sweet density

as eyes unfocus then roll back

teeth glance off a walnut and server off

the chunk my mouth twirls and mixes

Fudge sugared buttered melted chocolate

my tongue wallows like a pig in mud

Dad's words a dentist's sugary warning

of dietary debauchery hover in the

back of my swallow

I look up beg with wide eyes

for another as the guilt of

the first one loiters brown

on the walls of my throat


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