Reach into the box. What do you feel? Cut, freeze, burn your hand. Contents overflow, scattering on the floor around you, identically disparate, the sickly sweet, spicy hot, too hot, frozen taste on your tongue. You’re alone. Bandage your hand, clean up the floor, close the box. You’re alone.
I'm a math major daring to write.
What don't you know?
Your fame here.
I'm a woman daring to be strong.
I'm a conformer daring to create.
I'm a contradiction daring to live.
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