The bear loved the deer. It was obvious.
It ripped the deer's throat out, and then
licked the dying deer with the most
passionate affection.
I thought of you and me.
As much as I want to be consumed by the things I love, I also want to consume the things I loathe. The stories that make me uncomfortable, the food that tastes bland, the pain of nations, the art that speaks to the parts of me that I’ve buried where I never look. It all gives me a bigger, brighter idea of what the world is like outside of my being. I’d hate to be consumed by my own being.