Dearest Burrito,

To you, my love, my massive burrito. I stood in line at the local Chipotle anticipating your barbacoa goodness and gaucomole filling. I handcrafted you with the help of a skilled technician who carefully ladeled you with cilantro-lime rice and fresh pico. I watched him shape you into a perfect round bundle. He struggled fiercely, fighting against your shell, struggling to contain all of your sensual goodness and voluptuous curves.  I was so overwhelmed and nervous, I grabbed a beer. I knew Id need to loosen up for what I was about to do to you. I found a table in the corner far from the purview of onlookers. This was a private affair. I sat alone in the restaurant for a moment, intimidated, staring at your bounty, wondering how I might peirce your overstretched tortilla shell. Finally, I grasped you with two hands. A single hand could not support you. I made my move. With one bite I was enraptured. I took to you like a wild carnivore. Devouring bite after bite of your deliciousness. With a total absence of shame and hesitation, I devoured you whole, totally oblivous to the sour cream and guacamole smeered on my face. Finally, sweaty and exhausted, I  relinquished to you. My body could take no more. I dropped the remnants of your shell on your pretty red plastic basket. I wiped my chin and threw down my napkin in defeat. How I love your black beans, spicy salsa and your shredded cheese of delight. Oh my satiating love, how you do quench my hunger. Creative