In that moment too soon
That grapples you with the iron fist
Of yearning. The nougat piece that almost melts on your tongue.
And you water that moment hoping
That the nut beneath is spectacular
And easy to crack open like a cashew nut
Or the perfect halves of a peanut.
And love is just opening a confection
Hoping for a little nutty interior that breaks open the shell
And presents herself on the marriage bed.
A slap of hazel nut, as maddening
As Einstein’s eyes gazing at our cosmos.
And we all confess to wanting a nut
Who will never define the perimeter
Of all her possibilities, only that, there are no rules,
Nor little objections or devil’s advocacy,
Only blood thinning moments
That obscure your hoodwinked sanity.
The lingerie she wears, the baby doll, even the corset
All perfectly placed to embolden the hierarchy,
Ferrying across empowerment,
To a drooping nut.
