I'll have mine rare

Excitement rolling through my veins,

As snowballs, growing ever stronger,

Ricocheting against my nerves.

The avalanche can wait no longer.

Fire laps the cold hard metal,

With high pitched squeals of anticipation.

The time is short, much shorter than others.

Juices ejaculate with jovial elation.

Care goes into checking texture

While flesh-smelling vapors dance in my nose.

A skilled, and masterful artistic gesture

flips to sear the flavor in.

The rarest served to satiate.

The rib is prime to appreciate.