I'm choking because I inhaled garlic powder
I feel my breath slipping away into a succulent abyss
You taunt me with your cookbook-worthy corn chowder
but I'm holding out to find something easier than this

The odours from your kitchen are what hooked me in the first place
but then I heaved, and heaved some more
You are the tabasco of my life, causing my eyes and mouth to water
it's too bad that i'm dying, on your floor

Your hair is linguini, perfectly cooked so that when thrown at the fridge, it sticks
So beautiful that I don't even realize you're baking me into a cake
Good thing I am kept company by the cinnamon hearts you added to get your kicks
Even though I'd much rather be grilled up with some steak

Pour some tartar sauce on me and call me "Lucy"
Or if you're feeling adventurous, ketchup my chip Sally,
Because that would make it cool and juicy
It's living art, like Salvador Dali