Chocolove

at first,
the square of chocolate
had sharp edges; having
been broken from
the larger bar with a
certain urgency that all
middle-aged women have.
pressed against the roof of my mouth,
my tongue glides along
the silky chocolate, pausing to
savor the roughness of the
embedded almond, its salty
sweetness.
the corners softened as
the chocolate melted onto
my tongue and the square
dissolved into a disk sliding
up and down along my tongue
until the almond disengaged;
crushed into a hundred delectable
morsels of sweet and saltiness.
now the end was near, a mere
sliver rested in my mouth,
i valiantly resisted the automatic swallowing
action so as not to say good-bye
to my square of chocolate.
alas, all things must come to
an end so I went to the cupboard
and got another square, with its
rough edges, its salty sweet
almonds.