The hot steam rising to the kitchen ceiling

is enough to make my heart melt

like the dairy combination of

mozzarella, parmesan, and ricotta—

which is sure to churn itself into

a rumbling tornado in my soon-to-be-filled and satisfied belly.

 

The wavy layers of pasta stacked and cemented

with the hot, chunky, and meaty red sauce

will surely bring tears to my eyes

as it burns my precious taste buds in mere seconds

like the spewing lava of the magnanimous volcano

unleashed in the caverns of my gaping mouth.

 

As I sit here, finishing up this sentence—

typing away, making sure my fixation on you

is recorded accurately, I can hear

my hungry frowning family at the kitchen table,

calling me (and referring to me as Garfield) to join them.