The sound of you preparing encases my tired mind.

It could be early morning or the middle of the night.

Your crackly whispers of deliciousness hold me in rapture.

You come alive with the heat, though oh so unassuming at first.

Your energy moving, changing, drawing closer.

 

Your taste is like no other I have known my glorious friend.

The salty sensuality lingering in my mouth until I taste you again.

Sometimes sweet and bold. Sometimes a hidden treasure to discover.

I will always find you, however dressed, you are like no other.

That taste has ruled the world in subtle persistence forever.

 

The aroma of your presence is individual, unforgettable, and distinct.

I can know where you are, you are going to be, and have been.

It is not unpleasant and triggers oh so many fond memories.

I am giddy all over uncaring what the world may think of me.

They say, in blind ignorance, you will be my grave. I am unrepentant.

 

The sight of you causes my mouth to water and a hunger to unleash.

I could devour your every morsel in bites or all of you in one piece.

I am a stranger to myself, indistinguishable from the satiation I need.

Fill me, appease me, calm the savage beast inside of me.

We can conquer my fears and take on the world together You and I.

 

Damn, I love you bacon.

 

 

 

~L.M. Carbonell