By its nature
a delicious meal ceases existence
upon fulfillment of its purpose.
He who toils over the pan,
organizing the mess of batter
into spheres of flavor,
does so for the manifestation of his work
to only exist momentarily.
Focused, movements strain sweating arms
as the meal is prepared.
Coated in mayo and sweet sauce
and finished with powerful, flavorful garnish;
Both the joy of its consumption
and the tragedy of its impending destruction
grow in tandem.
Mouth scorching bites accompany gustatory sensation
until both cease
and only a sauce smeared plate remains.
But the cook is a fool to mourn his food,
as the sight of his plate evokes
the flavor in his mouth once more,
and the memory of the struggle and suffering
needed to create that moment
his bygone meal may serve its purpose again.