He stares at the beauty that lies before him
and take notes: A golden brown complexion,
the silhouette in the shade, a sensational aroma
traveling through the air.
Suffering inside as evidence of losing the battle is seen.
One last attempt to ignore temptation has failed.
He surrenders. Allowing his lips to touch the warm
inviting surface, placing tiny kisses near the outer layers.
His flickering tongue covering every inch, as it parts the
surface and navigates its way to the creamy middle
of pure victory. He savors each swallow followed by
moans of delight.
The act, over in a matter of minutes, he sits back and feels no remorse.
Has he committed a sin?
Now in utter bliss, he muses over the question. Why
deprive himself from experiencing such pleasure
A gust of wind blows by him, bringing the last of the lingering aroma
and his eyes travel to the dining room table. He smiles, reminiscing
of what took place and his eyes fall upon the empty pan
where the Lemon Meringue Pie had been.