Paper Plates

Divided,
like slices of cake,
for fucks sake,
patiently waiting,
not minding but teeth grinding,
at the back of the queue,
in the hope I'll get a small taste of you.
Am I too needy?
wanton and greedy?
Arriving too late to a bare empty plate,
fingers and thumbs I'm picking up crumbs
to compress sponge and smears of cream
into dreams,
a pressing resemblance
of something I once consumed