Of Love Or Something Like It And Appetite Poem by Melanie Emikohe

Our unexpected encounter
is like finding a piece of carrot cake
in the fridge when I just gobbled
ninety degrees of pizza

So it dawned upon me
that love is not commanded
by appetite or olfactory trigger
it doesn't fluctuate to follow
hormone's hide-and-seek
that I shouldn't be measuring
the length of a tongue
for exhibit A

So what will happen then
if I'm starved and the only thing
I find is an unopened jar of sour pickles
when on ordinary days,
I would shove it behind other packs to expire

I think I should have the kindness
to leave it intact
for someone in the house
who truly desires
its flavor, who seeks it with intent
past the aisles of treats