A vegetarian
slip
I bit into
a sandwich just now
Juicy,
layered,
I savoured
the bite, took another.
Then I
spied a sliver of pink
Ham, I’m
fairly sure,
I stop.
I can still
taste it, and,
dare I admit,
I savour it
Until
I think of
the creature behind that sliver
intelligent,
one that that loved its babies
and likely
squealed in terror
at the
slice of the blade through its tendons,
squirts of
blood fountaining.
The food sticks
in my throat
The rest of
the sandwich now sits in my bag,
almost
tempting, but not quite.
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