The reason for this flare’s, I trust,
infatuation with a nut.
When we’re apart, I do not whine
of all I miss, no, I feel fine.
And suddenly when I’ve forgotten —
though how could I when I feel so rotten?
— in a shopping aisle, my eye is caught
that ivory skin, so firm, so taut!
As if hypnotized, I invite
an assignation to delight.
A romantic dinner, just us two;
I gorge as if I have no clue.
It’s not until the morning after
bereft, no solace now, no laughter,
It’s back to bed, heartsick, alone,
the macadamias all gone.