The 24-hour diner
has one of those revolving trays
where all the desserts spin round
and round, tempting,
teasing, taunting with their sugared goodness.
The multicolored mousse
is most appealing this evening.

I can’t have it.
I can’t afford it – physically.
My system could be shocked
by a single slice of that saturated
super-sweetened sensation.
But every time it circles round
it hypnotizes, drawing me ever closer.

Even after leaving the diner
I remain in its thrall
watching the revolution
from outside
watching the mousse orbit closer
then further, then closer, then further,
then it’s after midnight.
Shame it’s raining.