mulberry

She was the dull light in the dark, hidden behind leaves for only chasers to find. She was sweet and bled invincible and purple, some of her's bled red and deep maroon, some of her's were bruised white and swollen with taste. Adored by the sun, so far up and out of reach were the sweetest ones of all. She was born and bloomed in the summer, she bled maroon in the winter, too soft to touch. She bled maroon on my fingertips and left rivers in my palm marking me until tomorrow.