Washing Blackberries at the Sink

WASHING BLACKBERRIES AT THE SINK

You wanted to wash the blackberries yourself,
you said. I lifted
you up to sit on the sink and made
the water run. One by
one
you plucked them from my hand
to wash them, then eat them, your other hand
your other hand holding your balance
by pushing against my heart.
One by one.
Then, done.

Categories: Poetry

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