Feminine Connoisieur; Masculine Carnivore
By a102866
- 255 reads
Through one track mind, my
passionate eyes, with no
aesthetic screen, on matted,
mangled masses zoom in,
ignoring decorative toppings,
neatly graded sides, tapered
edges, shapely rims, drooling
over the smothered, covered
main ingredient
Your sentient eyes, with
graded lens, and sharp
focus, skim the perimeter,
doting over the design,
concise pattern, measured
layers, congruent colors,
prim garnishes, then,
mysteriously, you morph
into a ravenous beast,
with malice aforethought,
on dainty, delicate dishes
cast a carnivorous glare
My sterile nose melds all
of the aromatic scents
into a congealed mass.
Spicy, mild, sweet scents
cannot allure my uncultured
nostrils.
The steam from the lifeless
victuals through my vapid
nostrils streams, only
residual benefit being the
quick whiffs of cooked
food, before they funnel
into my digestive cavity
Your perceptive nostrils
inhale deeply, distinguishing
each savory flavor, in a
discriminating manner, the
bifurcated vapors your
nurtured palate savors,
but after carefully segregating
the appealing strands, your
gouging lips, with reckless
abandon, devour the solid
shards, without regard for
aroma or flavor
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