Camembert

Just because you love something doesn’t mean it’s good for you.

I have loved many things, gin and chèvre and
Men. I have loved the sun brandished, hot,
on my uncensored skin;       the bite of boiled showers and
                             old shoes.

I have loved you, your knuckles wound tight as a
boa constrictor,      mean as my sister’s laugh.   I have loved
his height and her eyes and the way her sighs crouched
in her throat,        like a coiled snake weighted to strike.

You would think, in thirty years, I’d
learn to let go of thorned women and
spiked men, you
would think, but you’d
be wrong.

My veganism does not extend to love.