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Reality says a miracle took place as we reconciled after our relationship has been torn into shreds-fragment by fragment throughout the course of five years. (if my memory is incisive)

It seems as if….In the interim- Rain has been falling ceaselessly ensuing flood in the strawberry field.
The rain stopped pouring when the sun conquered, its warmth dried up the angry waters. Nourished soil let new berries grow. Vibrant hues of brilliant gems scattered over the berry field under the cloudless azure sky.

We celebrate our reunion by frolicking around this very field in an endless circle and waltz until we see the stubborn rainbow finally arch across the celestial scene.
When your feet grow weary, go lie down yonder, on the bald patch of the field, while I pick handfuls of the ripest, plumpest, ruddiest bunch.

(Gathering berries won’t take me long) When I return, let me lie beside you, and rest my heavy cranium upon your chest. I want to feel your heartbeat echo into my vacuous eardrum. I will breath in the laundry soap of your plaid shirt.

Let us inhale the silent sweetness of the berries and the damp freshness of the earth, we’ll gnaw on each berry in tiny bites and exchange kisses.

The berries will flicker when they reach our lips, light our tongues, slip under our skins, taint our sallow skins with flames, burst within our souls.
-Rejoice.




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