You Don’t Love Me to Death…Do You?

Since his wife bragged, she was a killer cook,
Bagwell Davis ate each forkful
With heightened sensitivity
To numbness and burning and choking.
I was joking,
She said,
Seeing him take microscopic bites.
But I’m sweating…
You should be,
It’s fiery hot…
With Tabasco, serranos, chipotles.
But it’s not remotely
A sauce of doom…
Just a dish to die for.