A suggestion of gravity

As a child,

more often then not,

when looking at the sky,

She felt like gravity would reverse

and she’d float,

fall,

release,

up into the mottled black of the great expanse so far up,

the bedroom light would be the stars

 

Sometimes,

now,

more often than then,

when she lies awake

to watch the mottled drywall

of her bedroom ceiling,

She wonders why she doesn’t fall up

and questions

if its only gravity

that keeps her tethered to the ground.

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