• Andréa Fekete

Poem: You Cannot Treat a Person Like Cake

Updated: Nov 6

I used to have a man who thought

himself a religion, wished me

to crawl through the desert,

my knees on fire,

chanting prayers of atonement

for his love which he would

never give no matter

in how many languages I asked.

He thought he loved me.

He believes it so fervently,

even now. I ran into him

on the street and he gave me

that same lovelorn look,

his eyes swearing I love you.

I miss you.

And he isn’t lying.

He loves to look at my face.

He loves to listen to my voice.

He loves to touch me.

But you cannot treat a woman

like a Van Gogh. She is not

Beethoven’s 5th.

A great set of luggage.

Or cake.

Consuming someone is not loving.