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 Jan 2019 sanai fields
Michaela N
the meals you never met
tasted like love.

i guess,
none were ever good enough.

as clock stretched six,
entrees were placed
adjacent to one empty seat.

ahead, my eyes bore into
a suppertime reminder
of the gifted void
you’ve left us to harbor.

but, who were you truly clocking in for?

because we sure weren’t
punching your time cards.

we saw,
every night,
at dinner time.

— The End —