sugar cookie temptation

she is fixing mac and cheese      
when a package of sugar cookies      
winks lasciviously at me.      
       
just one, the voice whispers,      
will be okay      
and as my hand sneaks forth      
       
my dead mother's voice comes roiling in.      
you'll spoil your--and wags her finger      
as my hand becomes a turtle's head        
snapping back into its shell.      
   
at what point is someone really gone      
if such power lingers on,  transmitted from      
       
mother to child who becomes a mother   
all the way back to the paleolithic, to Homo erectus,      
habilis, eventually beyond speech    
(i'm looking at you, australopithecus!)  
      
to times when honey was first found and eaten      
to excess, bringing about the retching      
upheaval of too much too fast    
Yet it was good, for those who had      
       
a word for good      
but otherwise worth it        
for those who didn't.