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sad carbonara

the cook gave a long
hard unhappy look
at the empty plate
knowing it was
her fate
to make a dinner
for two
for just one
alone
just a me
without a
you

belly

sometimes falling into
the belly of gravity is
more trying,
more pressing –
more draining,
than climbing away
from it, up into
an atmosphere
where sunlight
burns my fears into the
shadows of clouds,
loudly raining
down, as the ground
swallowed me whole

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written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: precipice