Maillard Reaction

I’ve left my bread too
long in the hellmouth.
The pink-orange teeth have
curled up on a soft cheek
for too long, my bread chafes;
the velcro skin hardens,
its pores have been exposed
to all this heat for too long.
Halfway through cremation,
the crust gives one last
exhale before curdling.
All that’s left is a burnt
carpet, a black epidermis
that itches but no matter
how hard I scratch, the
taste remains wretched.