Around age 30, she had begun this dance
Of conversation, how to suggest the low-fat
Without insulting the husband’s paunch
And need for chocolate chip and fudge ripple.

Twenty years later, they stand in the aisle,
freezing, as they open door after door
in pursuit of the perfect opportunity
to be guiltless,
in at least one aspect of their lives.  

“Is that mocha chip a two-for-seven deal?”
He asks, squinting at his wife.
It’s not low-fat, it’s only sugar-free,
She said, eyebrows creased
“Well, it looks like a good deal.”
He is reaching, ignoring the tap tap of her foot,
when she snatches the tub from his palms
and the freezer door closes the conversation.
They leave for home in silence,
with frozen peas.

My fiance and I watch,
each carrying tubs of french silk
and mango sorbet, and feeling the fullness
of potential among the frozen foods,
and I add waffles and bananas
to our feast.