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Ode to Fanta


As I pour my orange friend,
she spills over in a rush,
begging her plastic companion to shield her,
from the long fall to the ground.
She finds comfort inside the red straw.
I take a sip,
tasting her tangy, bubbly being;
unable to resist.
Her tiny carbonated souls
drip down my throat.
Their fizzy complexions find home
in my stomach.
The rest of my friend pleads to dive into my
waiting stomach.
We both find happiness.
 






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