You resurface from the dream

heaving breathing, head heavy

and clutch the bottle of green.

"It can't end like this.

There has to be more to see."

F a l l i n g

F  a  l  l  i  n  g

F   A   L   L   I  N  G

back into a sleepless dream.

You are in a dinner hall

spread long and wide

with hearty foods,

sugar dusted desserts,

a treasure trove of kinds.

A halo of green like an eerie light

coats everything you see,

and across the table from where you sit

is a man with piercing eyes and perfect ease.

"What would you like?

There's so much to taste.

I recommend the crème brûlée."

"It all looks so wonderful."

"It does. What do you say?"

You start to pile your china plate high

with samples of everything,

spooning sauces and chicken wings

rice and steamed dumplings.

At least three desserts, too.

I mean, who's going to judge you?

One bite, then another,

soon you're halfway to dessert.

You look at the young man across the table

and he's sizing you up with a smirk.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No, no, no. But there is something wrong

with eating so much. You won't stay small."

He stood and then he twirled,

and your spoon fell on your plate.

Slim, centerfold, ideal.

Perfect build.

Tastier to behold

than your entire meal.

"How can anybody love you, girl,

if you cannot help but eat your fill?"

He stood over your chair now,

looking down through terrible eyes,

"I can teach you a secret trick

to make sure you always stay your size."

His hand was on your back

and slid up to your neck.

A shock, stomach turned

into seasick waves,

envy come to life;

you wanted nothing more

than to become half your size

and destroy that pitying look in his eyes.

"Let it pour, let it pour,

don't hold the extra in.

Or how will you ever know, mon chéri,

what it's like to be beautiful like me...

if you cannot also be thin?"