Blackberry

 

I dare to say

I gave away,

A basket of berries,

Black and sweet,

 

That she could see,

What it is I am

And what I am not

And still taste away

 

On the dancing tongue

Of breath and mist, 

To be alive,

To even exist 

 

Yet be the same as it ever was

In the dreams I saw her,

Standing there, unaware, 

That we feel and felt

 

All too apart, tuning out

Just when the close of

Curtains raised, on each conversation

That never took place.

 

The corpse of iteration,

On display,

Above the streets

Of our ill parade.