“Love is a coat that you wear,” says Micah to himself. “Hunger is ice on your fingers.”

“Love is… waking her up with a kiss!” burbles the refrigerator magnet.

“No, refrigerator magnet,” says Micah. “That’s contentment.”

“Love is the sound of food on the water!” says the goldfish.

“No, goldfish,” says Micah. “That’s hunger.”

“What is?” says the goldfish.

“Love is how I can forget like you can,” says Micah sadly. “It’s how it grows back, green up through ash.”

“Love is hunger,” says the goldfish.

Micah opens his mouth, then shuts it, considering.

Then he opens it. Then shuts it.