I am so close to my goal weight that I can taste it. It's like Popeye's deeply fried chicken. Or two mounds of vanilla ice cream just beginning to soften; glistening chocolate sauce melting into them and then flowing silkily down their sides. And waffles with syrup bulging at the top of each square before overflowing onto the dish to be reabsorbed in a continuous cycle of delicious renewal. Which is why this is probably as close as I'll ever get.
Ah well, I'm in good company, as Solomon said, "All the labour of man is for his mouth, and yet the appetite is not filled."