by Alison Driscoll

Cat-calling him ‘bae’ is like a peanut

obstructing my windpipe in anaphylaxis.

It brings me out in urticaria –

makes a polygon knot in my tummy.

I have an allergy to your dismissive stance, 

Bitterness and spite sum it up.

Your ‘squad goals’ are not like mine.

As I selfie with my BF minus one F.

Pythagoras has a theory and I formulate one too:

Me + him ÷ me and you – 

A hypothesis you hold without proof.

It makes me uneasy to know you hold him in contempt.

You don’t get he’s my epi-pen – my adrenaline.

‘Bae’ is an imposter of affection. He is not.