The feel of the rough, thin slice.
The grease of the oil.
The rolling of the salt grains.
The smell of the fried goodness.
The crunch of the chip.
I don’t remember when we first met.
You overwhelm me every time,
Flavour sticking on my tongue,
The soft burn on my palette,
The starchy taste of potato.
Our love for each other has been epic,
You’ve been there whenever I need you,
But sometimes, when I can’t have you too.
Secrecy was never our strength,
People always know when we meet.
Crunch, munch, crunch, munch,
The sounds of our love attract others
They want to share our magic,
Some want you for themselves.
But I know you love no other like me.
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