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.



Inspired by:  Reason, Flare, Infatuation and Trust.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

3 thoughts on “Lovesick”

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