Binge

Curvaceous as an ampersand, I am all rugged terrain. Valleys and hills. Hunger lives here. And here. And here. See the red Xs scattered madly left and right, up and down. Satisfaction is out of the question. Only more. And more. And more. I am relentlessly unoptimistic. This moment will never end.

Purge

Today I am smaller than I was yesterday, though I am not myself. I am not anyone. My body lies between two panes of glass–flatter than Flat Stanley–a double-sided photograph. You could mail me to the other side of the globe in a #10 envelope, if it behooved you to do so. Madagascar, for example. Or Japan.