A meal in the morning is made to sustain till noon.
A meal at noon keeps dinner in tune.
The schedule is precise with each meal separated,
By the ticks and tocks of a internal clock.

Yet here the feast has begun.
Too soon for lunch, too late for breakfast, yet just in time to spoil the dinner,
Just as the apple spoiled the dawn of man.

And here my feast has begun.
My insatiable heart, attacks my mind,
Images of what is and what could be make me blind.
The prospect of another taste, spoiling the old bond.
The place where a feast had been done.

The budding plates wisked into my thoughts,
I remind myself,
She's the only one.