The checkout line was slow a dull parade

The checkout line was slow, a dull parade,

My eyes just wandered, unafraid.

Then saw the chocolate, cheap and bright,

A memory flashed, in sudden light.

I was fourteen, hands in my pockets deep,

The thrill a secret I would keep.

That crinkle of foil, a quiet sound,

As it disappeared, without a trace, I'd found

A quick, sharp pleasure, stolen, sour.

My heart beat hard, in that brief hour.

Now, just a bar, untouched, unbought,

The memory's sharper than the sugar I sought.