Trays of fudge and candy occupy tables with red and white clothes.
Turtlenecks and sweaters with glitter meet in a circle
and converse over red wine and mint fudge with sprinkles.
The false tree bares no presents, just shatterproof ornaments and
simple reminders of our first Christmas together long ago.
Silent hours are spent fluffing, decorating, designing,
and stringing lights no one will ever see or admire.
The corruption of a time that was meant to be a reminder
of something more than debt, chocolate brownies, and roasted turkey.
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