are you eating rainier cherries without me this summer? i'm eating rainier cherries without you this summer but it's not like eating cherries without you before. i eat them slowly, saying, "what's so different?" to the little black cat i touch instead of you. the gloss is the same as the day i brought them to you, the red-gold dapple, the peachy flesh that surprised you. i liked giving you fruit. i wanted to give you fruit. i worried about keeping what you gave me, the books we read together, the years we spent together. i didnt know to worry about your tendrils creeping back into who i was before i met you. there is no memory of summer cherries that doesn't lead to eating them with you. so i wonder if you're eating cherries without me. are you still who i changed you to? changing you changed me.
gorgeous. haunting.
still thinking about this