XIII. Someone else is scanning. I can feel it, you know? Eyes all over you. They take you in, meat. Then they chew on you. They compare you to other chunks they've chewed before, they swish your juices around their tongue, seeking complexities, body, difference. They swallow. You swallow. Me, that is. You digest me. You construct me, churn me through your bowels. Then you excrete me.

XIV.