i think the childhood mythology of “it’s okay to share food when you’re family because you all have the same spit” is so beautiful actually like love is about eating each other’s leftovers it is about my parents eating the heads off the shrimp in my plate because they know i don’t like the idea of eating eyes and it’s about asking your friends to “waterfall” you when you’re running the mile at P.E. but if they like you enough they won’t yell ew if your mouth touches the bottle and it’s about my sister taking a bite of a cookie, making a face, and handing it to me


























