I love the way my hands feel right
As the pieces of you squeeze through my fingers
When I spread all the niceties of the spices and herbs
and chilli flakes that makes the harmony reverb.
The recipe comes down like a song; a poem; a ray of light
As I marinate you overnight.


Under the cold moon and the black sky
I hold you and I act like
I’m ready for you; and I ignite
the coal underneath the grill
and the fire that burns
resembles the fire in my heart.


The burning coal radiates my face red
The color of lust
I’m waiting, sweating profusely; adrenaline rush.
Trust me, debate me if you must
But the mustard sauce just doesn’t do justice to you.
And the rust of the grill just adds to the flavor.


As I stand there holding a piece of your heart
And a piece of your liver and thighs.
I work my plan to place you right. It has to be right.
So that its easy to turn and you don’t burn
I don’t want to lose your tenderness.


The fat melts and drops on the fire
Adds cymbals to the drum beats
Of my heartbeat thats rising,
Just like my cholesterol.
And as I take the first bite
The juices oozes out like orgasms in my mouth.
Ladies and Gentlemen, that is the taste of love.

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