Shredded by the hands
Of the most tasteful
The slimy texture
Fades from the grill
Firming up
To be dressed
More like doused in a sea
Of smooth,
Creamy,
Spicy sauce

At dusk
The smell strings
Along
Lingering around
My nostrils
The hot, fieriness
Singes
My nose hairs
Causes my forehead to
Perspire
Ever so slightly

The crackling
From the raw,
Slimy
Chicken cooking
On the grill
Makes me smile from ear to ear
The mixing of the sauce
With the cooked,
Disheveled chicken
Coming together as one
Hearing the sound
Of the chip bag
Makes me feel
Warm inside

The sight of my mother’s
Crockpot
With the delectable
Buffalo chicken inside
The steam
Protruding
Evaporating
Into thin air
The bright
Orange
Color
Consumes my brown eyes
Making my mouth water
With every bubble that forms

The first bite is a
Gateway
To the heavens
Every bite thereafter is
Simple equilibrium
Whilst it lays
In the heart of
The tortilla chip
The juicy chicken
Between my teeth
The buffalo sauce
Shooting its spice
And lighting up
My taste buds
Flavor embarks
While the chewed-up bits
Go down a dark tunnel
To a large, empty
Basin.