Open the door and the light comes on
but only when you open the door
Illuminated are the remnants of the 
recent past (some not so recent) the
leftover bits and pieces, scraps and
tasty morsels with which you can
construct a spontaneous, piecemeal
feast, a light lunch, or default snack
fresh and climate controlled
not always what you want, when you
crave something else, but not sure what
Disappointedly you close the door on
available options, and the light goes out
At least in theory
In the refrigerated warmth of the heart
there is someone who is a jar of gone-bad
mayonnaise; a condiment to your life,
sparingly used, forgotten behind other jars
goes with little, modicum goes a long way
not a main course, not even a dab of tastes
better-when-reheated homemade stew
bon apetit.
Ponderable polemics, poetic 