I try not eating the chocolate one with sprinkles
and I don’t succeed—my pledge to my diet dies,
but the taste validates my backsliding, the fine
smudge on my lips beautiful as lipstick on a woman.
Someone wrote “the great beauty of the world”—
maybe I did, I can’t be sure—and I believe the words.
I remember the ugly of the past and I know the worst
of the future is already gearing up to make its visit—
I finish the doughnut, clean away the evidence
and head back to the couch to finish a book I love.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 14, Issue 1.