NOT OVARY ACTING

In the tender night, cravings softly speak,

A symphony of sweets, both strong and weak.

Moods like waves, in flux and flow,

I'm not overreacting, it's my ovary acting.

Chocolate whispers, a sugary thread,

Weave through the laughter and tears we shed.

A bite of solace, in comfort we're basking,

I'm not overreacting, it's my ovary acting.

Salty crisps and creamy delights,

Balance the swings from dizzying heights.

Through joy and sorrow, we find snacking,

I'm not overreacting, it's my ovary acting.

The pantry's embrace holds us tight,

In the dance of flavors, we take flight.

From elation to gloom, nothing's lacking,

I'm not overreacting, it's my ovary acting.

In each morsel, a story untold,

Of warmth in the midst of being cold.

Emotions and tastes, intricately stacking,

I'm not overreacting, it's my ovary acting.

-Atieno