Donut

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Donut

It's the texture that does it.
Soft. Flaking. Breaking as the slightest pressure of my mouth descends
When my teeth make contact, metal to frosting. It hurts.
I wish I could taste it.
The dough is light, and there's the sweet scent of it
But there is no taste.
Another bite. Chewing. Contemplatively Chewing
Getting past the rounded edge of the side
The filling appears. Deep red framed by powdery light brown and orange
This.
This has taste.
It is heavy, so much heavier than the rest of the morsel
Briefly my tongue feels the white cream on top, mixing with the
strawberry jam.
Briefly.
Then there is again only texture. Only scent. Only chewing.
I am 3 bites bored.
I buy this as a treat to myself. To go with my plain bagel
My childish orange juice
My sweet nothing.
How can someone understand it? I have selective taste.
With food. With drink. With Wine. With Women.
There are many of each of these things, yet only a few hold me.
A few hold my attention and have taste.
A few years ago, friends told me I had no taste when I told jokes
A few years ago I lost my taste for joking that way.

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