Mything in Action

It makes me sad how quickly

hot things go cold.

A few times a day

I look forward to the toasty

warmth of my nourishment.

But before I eat half of it,

the warmth has left it,

altering the flavor.

I eat it anyway, remembering

the first few bites,

the warmth on my tongue,

the steam up my nose,

relishing in my nostalgia.

Then before I know it,

it is gone.