In the language of fungus, "eat" and "understand" share a single word: a delicious tangle of chemical electricity dripping out into the world through tangled hyphae. Eat them and understand; let yourself be consumed and finally learn what it is to be truly known.
They say it's impossibly intimate. That there's nothing like it.
But they would say that, wouldn't they? Since they're the ones that fungus has understood. They're the ones who became part of it only to be set free, fruiting bodies full of temptation's myriad charms—
Never trust anyone who can't tell you which way they want to know you, my dears. Those charming ones with bone-white vellus hairs, their pupils ringed with a cream so unlike their proper irises, their smiles thick with unspoken promises ...
Their love is a delicious lure.
Humanity never learns to set aside its own desires, and that burning engine will be the death of us all in the end.
Why would those fungal flirts be any different?