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  • In giving myself over to my appetites i found that nothing can satiate them.
    My appetite only grows stronger.
    In this world the bowls have holes.
    We sit at a table eating food that has already eaten itself.
    We wear the tattered gowns and top hats from our grandmothers' chests as if they were our own.
    The china is chipped.
    The coffee cold.
    Our tongues have been burnt too many times to notice.
    We don't bother lighting candles anymore, their sweet smell and romantic glow is lost to us now. We grasp for greater delights
    We hold fireworks in our hands and light them.
    We stare at each other across the table but our eyes never meet and our souls are never seen and yet we prey with each other as if we were planets who'd been orbiting in space forever. We are eating each other for sustenance as we climb our way to the top; to the top of the ladder that is before us. Under my lace dress there is armor i've made out of tin foil. It's not that good. Others have the good stuff but i don't know what junkyards they go to to get it. i'm not winning in this race.

    I took some time out to dig holes in the ground and just like at the beach I found water. I dipped my feet in and made mud. I covered my body in it. I got dirty. I ran around and bumped into trees but they never yelled at me. They invited me to climb up into them. I fell a few times but made it up. And up in there I could sit for eternity with no apparent appetite for anything. I peered through the branches and saw a telescope staring at me from another tree. I stared back. We saw into each other, into systems in which solar systems live.

    A mosquito buzzed in my ear and tore me from my eternal gaze. I was reminded of the race. And was made aware of how silly i looked sitting up in a tree naked. So i slid down the trunk scraping the flesh of my inner thighs on the way.
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