BY SHOSHANNA BEALE

Some days the only thing that’ll fix me

is chocolate—not just any chocolate

and definitely nothing by Nestle—

I need edible gold to actuate

from the supermarket into my mouth;

I’d hold it close, inhale, eyes dilated

like Gollum, and shove it all in my mouth.

I want to wallow in my chocolate,

piece by piece until I feel overfed,

savouring the final hint of flavour

as I lie unmovable on my bed,

in a mess of wrappers and peeling foil.

 

Shoshanna Beale in an emerging writer and poet. She lives in Melbourne and works as a freelance writer and editor. You can read more of her work at shannabeale.wordpress.com/blog.

[Contents of a box of chocolates], glass plate negative, c. 1910-1940. State Library of Victoria, H2003.101/216. Available online.

[Contents of a box of chocolates], glass plate negative, c. 1910-1940. State Library of Victoria, H2003.101/216. Available online.