S’il vous plait . . . as you wish . . . but not just this moment. I would, if I could, gift your hearts desire, if only I could – if only.
Words. Spoken without meaning, knowing my yearning could not be quelled, would not be quelled, not yet.
Not now, not at this time, perhaps when morning comes.
I hunger through the night with bitter longing, anxiously awaiting the morn when he’ll rise and grant me my wish. But when the morning arrives he whispers, “Wait.”
And wait I must, and wait I will.
It’s better this way, the donuts are fresh in the morning.