My home is void of tasty food.
My pantry free of flour, sugar, chocolate
that could transform to dainty treats.
My shelves are gluten-free
and fat is banned from my front door.
But in my dreams, I load my plate
with jelly donuts, carrot cake,
granola, fudge, and cheesy bread.
I wake to find I’ve grown two sizes
since I went to bed.
My pants don’t fit above my knees.
I rip the seams of shirts.
Is that why DIET really means
Did I Eat That food?
published in Medusa’s Kitchen, republished in Sonnets to Sing
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