THEY TELL ME:  "WE ARE  GOING TO  SHRINK 
 YOU."  I DON'T  QUITE LIKE  THE TONE  IN 
 THEIR VOICES, LIKE THEY ARE  RESTRAINING 
 THEMSELVES. THERE  IS A  HUNGER  IN THEM 
 AND  IT  WANTS ME TO  SHRINK.  AND  WHAT 
 REALLY  IRKS   ME   IS  THAT  SO  DO  I. 
                                          
 THEY  GIVE  ME  WRISTBANDS AND  ANKLETS, 
 MADE   OF  SOME   STRANGE  STONE.  THEIR 
      SURFACE IS SWIRLING, LIKE DARK      
   THUNDERSTORMS TRAPPED IN GLASS, LIKE   
 WINDOWS  INTO A SMALLER WORLD, CLOSE  TO 
 MY  BODY SO  THAT  IT  CAN  SEE  CLEARLY 
             WHATS IN STORE.              
                                          
 THEY GIVE ME FOOD: PRAWN-LIKE BUGS  THAT 
 MAKE  MY TONGUE  CURL WITH SATISFACTION. 
 "OUT OF THIS WORLD", I THINK, HAVING  NO 
 FRAME  OF REFERENCE. I EAT ONLY TWO, BUT 
      THE BUGS LEAVE ME SUSPICIOUSLY      
                SATISFIED.                
                                          
 THEY MEASURE MY CLOTHES. "YOU  ARE GOING 
 TO BECOME ABOUT  HALF AS BIG", THEY TELL 
  ME, BARELY CONTROLLING THEMSELVES WITH  
              ANTICIPATION.