a love letter to garlic

i'm taking a writing class. apparently everything that i write sounds like a love letter, according to the feedback of my peers. i guess that's a reasonable thing, considering that i've been writing them for the past three months now. if i'm going to have a genre, i might as well master it, right?

in class on thursday we were each given a fresh herb as inspiration, a jumping off point for a three minute free write. here is my garlic writing (which no one from last night will remember asking me to post...i'm not sure anyone will remember anything...except joyful dancing, french fries, tattoo looking, losing $20 and hilarity.

spicy, pungent, moist.
cleaning out the stuck-ness in my lungs from these last few days. burning in my sinus cavities, i want your smell to be your taste to be my breakfast lunch and dinner. i can smell the earth on you. maybe even the rot of your next door neighbor, had she not been eaten for lunch instead of saved for february potato leek soup.
deep and powerfu, will you embrace me with your warm arms, climb up my nostrils and kiss the inside of my head, the back of my tongue? i love the way your smell lingers on my hands, stubbornly, for days after eating you.
--
(maybe i'm just waiting for wednesday)
i might start posting more of my writing here. the next one was about cumin and it made
so hungry.

back to duct taping...clearly this is procrastiblogging.