Salami and Cheese were special to one another, essentially some would say they were made for each other. The rich, bitey texture of the black vintage label stung the tongue, in such delightful manner that Salami would fetch more than another three slices with her forefinger and thumb.
Cheese loved to be consumed, it was his calling, his life’s awakening, it was what he was born to do, his strong bitey taste was his form and method of duty. And when Salami was in her manic hunger moods, Vintage Cheese and everything else in her path would be what she’d consume, even her own little Twiggy stick friends – her own meat family! Afterwards, to their remaining family, she’d not bother to make amends.
Salami was greedy, she loved to eat all day, there was no other moment where she did not have cheese upon the brain. Occasionally though, she would be paired with a crusty bread roll and a slice of fatty ham, upon a slice of factory made cheese slice they’d be stacked, by a human who gave not a single damn. Then adding to the list of items, salad items stacked as you please, the morose Salami now suffered in these moments, without ongoing ease, without her Vintage Black Label Cheese. This mediocre plastic version of cheese was not for her haughty self, she deserved the finest of accompaniments, something worthy to and for herself.
Still, she put up with being consumed with the slice of veiny, fatty ham, and the lettuce, cheese, tomato and jalapenos, with a thick squeeze of mayonnaise as a somewhat worthy accompaniment, but long did she for the day that Vintage Cheddar and she would fly, far away, to a less convoluted world that did not separate one from the other on any given day.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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