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.