of course it’s butter, you fucking idiot. 

what else would it be? 

a Dream? 

a promise? 

a Dream of promises kept? 

unfortunately for You, it is indeed just butter. but you’ll keep smiling at the label like a newborn, “i can’t believe it either!” 

over your plain bagel 

in your plain home 

waiting for the One you loved

to return your phone calls. 

for a fleeting moment, none of that matters and all that matters is your spreadable lack of intrigue. 

it has always just been butter, but for a moment 

you can believe this is the first Time again 

and not think about the first Time 

you loved and lost or lost and still loved. 

for a moment you can be 

alone and not think of loneliness, eat 

and not Dream of a shared meal. instead 

you can’t believe it, all consuming.