2019.06.01

I see it’s written, it’s all over his face
I hear it’s spoken, it’s all over his lips
It’s red as the berries we stole from the bush growing between the fence
It’s clear as the sky above us, only stars interrupting black
I write those words into the black, as we walk back home
I speak those words into the red, as we share the sweet juice of the berries we stole from the bush growing between the fence