Stibnite, house of antimony: dating as aversion therapy
Clutch of steel-grey crystals, metallic like swords like needles. Turns black when exposed to too much air, wind bags, oxidized onyx explosion. Helps ignite the head of a match. Lost track of how many matches, how many first dates. Used to manufacture fireworks, spark star trails. Chemistry. Death-sized. Decomposes readily. Debaclesized. Ghosted. Tenacity: flexible but inelastic. Legs unhinged, bent back. Supposed to say yes, say no, say nothing, smile on demand, acquiesce and swallow everything whole. Gag is both noun and verb. Don’t worry. I’m not even a person.
Vehicle for antimony, hauling this deadly element, this cousin to arsenic, accomplice of cinnabar. Ground in glass-making, crumbled in kohl for eyeliner. Stimulates hair growth, prostates. Once used to make utensils, poisoning diners. One-sided conversations, chatbots, dick pics, rape threats. Stood up, subdued, stalked. Antipathy, acrimony, anger. Stereotyped in utero, steeped in male gaze. Stalwart, stuck up, stillborn. Used to dissolve utopias, poisoning all. Brings swagger to swiping left, eye roll to uninstall, bondage fetish to peace bond.
Protects from unforeseen circumstances, though not from married men or narcissists. Boosts courage in expressing your feelings though not to polyamorists or cheats. Brings commitment, eases transformation from middlebrow to MILF to misanthrope. Builds a metaphysical barrier around the body. Can facilitate communication between yourself and extraterrestrial beings. Augur. Do not let it touch skin. Do not inhale. Do not call first. Do not respond quickly. Do not exhale. Do not ask questions. Take a breath. Take a joke. Take it. Take it, bitch.
"Stibnite, house of antimony: dating as aversion therapy" from Tinder Sonnets © 2026 by Jennifer LoveGrove. Used with permission of Book*hug Press.
Jennifer LoveGrove is the author of the Giller Prize–longlisted novel Watch How We Walk, as well as three poetry collections: Beautiful Children with Pet Foxes (longlisted for the Raymond Souster Award), I Should Never Have Fired the Sentinel and The Dagger Between Her Teeth. She is currently working on a new novel, and creative nonfiction. She divides her time between downtown Toronto and Squirrel Creek Retreat in rural Ontario.
The Tinder Sonnets by Jennifer LoveGrove Book*hug Press, 2026
From acclaimed writer Jennifer LoveGrove comes an electric poetry collection exploring female sexual desire, contemporary dating, misogyny, and middle age that reflects and embodies our social media-saturated times.
Unabashedly confessional and radically vulnerable, The Tinder Sonnets rallies against the long-standing demand that “women of a certain age” politely accept being rendered non-sexual. Each poem is based on a date, relationship, or contemporary dating insight, and highlights how misogyny impacts the way we connect in the modern world–or don’t.
Juxtaposing folklore and the natural world against the digital sphere of texting and dating apps, this is poetry that defies invisibility and instead confronts and subverts it through a discerning feminist lens. While experimenting with the traditional form of the sonnet, these sonically textured poems are playful and wry, erotic and joyful, all while refusing to shy away from palpable anger, frustration, and disappointment.
Centering strength and resilience in the face of a resurgence of misogynistic chauvinism, The Tinder Sonnets is a staunch refusal to recede from view, to cede sexual space, or to be quiet and polite.
