by Donelle Dreese

Cacao beans from the Congo
pressed into brunette blocks refined
and melting, a sweet evil tamed
like briar berries pressed into a silk
earth butter. Even your solid 70%
resembles a tuxedo and piano score.

My love for you no longer
rummages through a sock drawer
looking for pairs that don’t match.
I’ve learned to love the bitter,
the orange essence, the nutty and spicy,
not just in you, but in everyone.

And the bioflavonoids are an after-thought,
another occasion for undying love.
My heart benefits either way.

Donelle Dreese is the author of two poetry collections: A Wild Turn (Finishing Line Press), and Looking for a Sunday Afternoon (Pudding House Publications). Her poetry and fiction have appeared in publications such as Quiddity International, Hospital Drive, Roanoke Review, Appalachian Heritage, Runes, Gulf Stream Magazine, Journal of Microliterature, Gadfly Online, and Conclave. She is an Associate Professor of English at Northern Kentucky University.