Food.

So bad, yet so good.

So many colours, so many textures.

So many food poisonings taken for the pleasure.

You gave me gout last Christmas Eve,

But I don’t hold it against you, you see,

For I know our relationship is solid.

Once the doctor unclogs my arteries.

This Christmas things will be different.

You promised we’d take things slower.

If I end up back in the kidney stones ward.

I’m afraid our fond relationship may be over.