Why is it that after our greatest pleasures,

We often experience our greatest guilt?

Chocolate and Gold; an aphrodisiac for everything,

Forever. Of course they're forgotten, slowly,

Until we meet again.

Tucked away for safe keeping,

Collecting dust beneath our Grandmother's quilt,

They lay dormant, waiting to break the surface,

As we watch over our shoulder,

Hoping no one notices, hoping no one's around,

When we commit our greatest pleasure.