vim

secret spice prepared, as so am i
i feel a quiver, in my thigh
my spice warmed hands, touch cold, pink meat
orgasmic trembles, nose to feet
the pink massaged, and rubbed to brown
the oven heats with creaking sound
is it hot in here, or is that just you
my sweet little succulent, porky-poo
7 hours i wait, for my soul to be fed
my eyes roll back, into my head
i hear a ding, could it be time
for my tongue, there's nothing, more sublime
my forks now shred, and dice, and cut
i've just fallen in love, with pork butt.