Trails of foil—crumpled squares, balls—
Tucked under layers of refuse, of paper towel
In tissues within tissues
From one treat, two, six, ten
Gooey fingers quickly rinsed, my mouth
Thick with evidence
Insatiable
My teeth rotting, sharp holes
Catch my tongue, blood dribbles into the
Lack of sugar, until
More foil finds my fingers, my stomach
Wrenching at the thought of
More, at the thought of
Less, at the thought of
You, finding
Trails of foil
