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,
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
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,
and molding
our purpose.
Your edges
are my edges,
your soul,
my soul,
just like
we always wanted
to be.


Twitter mash up precedes. ๐Ÿ™‚


5 thoughts on “Blackberries

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