of my apple, my cheese stick, my breast, my French fry, my toast, my shoulder, my banana, my omelet, my heart, I glow. I want to chop my fingers into bite-sized pieces, quarter my eyeballs, flay my lobes so you won’t choke. They say retain! Protect! Create! But instead I long to live inside feeding you, to curl up under your scrunched nose, beneath your wet mouth, a suction cup, your smooth teeth seeping into my flesh, until warm light oozes through the holes from your bites, and they swell, becoming bright and hot and white and everything.