We met over doughnuts
it was Bouchon in the Spring
A chilly Sunday morning
a little tradition
a monthly excursion
a caloric devotion
I can taste it now
He sat just behind me pocket plaid shirt
classically handsome
but I was lost in a doughnut
It arrived on a plate
a lightly fried wonder
dusted with sugar
only on Sundays
I bit in I bit in I bit in
all that cream
so unctuous
I bit in I bit in
all that cream
so unctuous
With each bite with each bite
a small groan grew
a small groan grew
from the back of my throat
until
I couldn’t help it
until
I couldn’t help it
until
I couldn’t help it
until
I couldn’t help it
until
oh God
I love doughnuts
I could feel the silence the stares
Behind me he cleared his throat
Slowly our gazes met
His blue New England eyes asked
“Have you always liked doughnuts?”
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