“Cocomee”
We can’t keep doing this babe!
Every time I promise myself,
tonight I’ll make a different choice.
I know the definition of madness.
Repeating the same actions,
Expecting a different outcome.
Does the waitress recognise me?
Does she acknowledge my illicit struggle?
She graciously hands me a menu.
I unfold the linen napkin, like a gift,
softly place it upon my lap, fingers
lovingly trace the name of each dish.
I ponder my dilemma, what I want
what I think I think I want, crushed
by a burden of choice, I cave…
Order a damned, delicious bento box, again.
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