A piece of sweet
An innocuous morsel
Made merely
Of milk and sugar
Lies on the counter.
I sit at my table
Doing the lord’s work
And hit a roadblock.
My mind wanders
I walk to the counter.
My eyes drift
To the piece of sweet
Lying on the counter.
My hand picks it up.
The nugget of sugar
Disappears down my throat.
A piece of sweet,
A burst of delight,
A momentary shroud
Of torment and treachery.
An escape hatch.
As I ponder this marvel
Of mere milk and sugar
I catch myself hovering
Once again
Over the counter.