Blackberries

I was 19
when we met
and I fell in love.
Two years later,
you were 19
when you
fell in love back.
We are 14 years older
and I still love all of you,
your rough touch,
fingers gripping,
stripping
me down
to nothing
but salt and blood
until your hunger
turns to healing.
I used to taste love
on your lips,
like blackberries
in summer,
hot chocolate
in fall.
You always tasted
like the best seasons.
I knew I loved you
when my heart jumped
from my chest.
I misplaced my pulse
but it always
belonged to you
anyway.
We shined brighter
than ten thousand glow sticks
stitched to a sky,
and our beams danced swifter
than fleeting memories
could fly.
A wild
and wondrous river
ran through
our veins,
eroding
and molding
our purpose.
Your edges
are my edges,
your soul,
my soul,
just like
we always wanted
to be.

***

Twitter mash up precedes. 🙂

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