How We Like It

How We Like It

I love you more than bacon. Really, I do.

In the kitchen heat, I think of you as I carefully place

In the pan, bacon strips

Cool from the fridge.

 

You’re still curled up in bed.

Dreaming, I think, of mangos

Its sticky juices running between your fingers

As you chew on the bone.

 

You stir as you smell the bacon.

Its slow sizzle builds

With passion to a burnt crisp,

Just the way we like it.