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.