Spider-Man's powers make him confident, so when he swoops into my bedroom he has no reason to think my bat might hurt him, that I might subdue him with chloroform, that I might suck at the scar for the transcendent venom. Aquaman struggled, now floating in a jar in my closet. Batman hangs by the ceiling fan. I have The Flash on a hamster wheel. A recording of me crying over alienation was all it took to draw them in.
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