We left our takeout at the restaurant

and it has rooted itself to the table,

which is bolted to the floor.

In twenty years,

the soft matter from our burritos

will take over the entire table.

It will look like a rectangular mushroom,

dripping with yellow spores.

In thirty years,

my liver will be sliced in half

by a surgeon half my age

and she will be very nice about it.

Have you ever been stressed?

I’ll ask her under anesthesia.

What an awful question for

someone who works 24-hour shifts.

Back to now:

We soften our teeth with sparkling drinks

and I bruise my vocal cords swallowing

you in the parking lot.

You’re pulling my ponytail and when you stop,

I feel prickling across my scalp,

little needles sewing intentions.


🍄 faye karina is a multi-genre writer who enjoys watching mecha anime and taking naps. She worships the moon because she is both a lunar witch and That Poet. Find her on Twitter @missmacross.