Posted on July 28, 2013
i once knew how to turn twizzlers into shapely spaceships. i’d fly their frames through the kitchen ether, which i called space. i imagined them bustling on the inside with microscopic lovers and traffic, a mobile continent, invincibly happy. eventually i’d bring them to war with a no-good nebula not of their choosing. i called it my mouth. i could hear them howl. they were helpless. i was hungry.