no gods, yet so much hunger.  i write, not in ink but graphite. graphite allows me to erase mistakes i want to turn back from. it is similar to rewinding time, rewinding to when i have gained more than i have lost. 'hush,' the moon says. 'child, you have gained far more than you know.' i speak back to the moon, incredulous. 'what have i gained?' it speaks with its yellow teeth: "the capacity to love this damn much."