Picture it, Poughkeepsie: As I swiped my card at the dormitory door I'd already caught your sweet scent. Your ziplocked brocolli florets, gently radiated by that communal microwave, cast a sensuous robe of olfactory bliss over the lobby. And thine saucepan gently simmered, Textured Vegetable Protein fliratiously mingling with the finest organic herbs offered from the Hudson Valley's sweet bounty.

Truthfully, I always saw that saucepan as a metaphor for us - you as the dehydrated vegetable solids, and me, in my dreams, as the gentle but urgent sauce enrobing you with its sweetness. And the saucepan as perfume-ed sweatlodge; slotted spoon as man-pillar. Oh, my vegan temptress, not a day goes by when i don't think about the texture of your vegetable protein and the gentle curve of your skillet....