We pick wild blueberries, yet my mouth stains purple
as she places one on my lips and I suck it inside,
crushing it with my eager tongue.
We lie there, the heat from the August sun burning
like the trail of fire her touch has left on
my skin, my heart— my life.
I wonder what we’re doing here, keeping secrets
in the summer shadows, hiding in the tall grass,
not holding hands in the café, eating blueberry scones.
I turn to her, crushing the berries between us,
my breast against hers, our hearts beating faster
as I ask for her hand forever.
Never thinking of all that could go wrong
between now and then and tomorrow
on the other side of always
when the winds of time change, bringing betrayal.
When death kisses you in all the places
I no longer can, as I sit here on the grass,
hands against the cold stone,
the ghost of blueberries on my lips.
Lori Green is a Canadian writer who has been writing poetry, horror, and dark fiction since she first picked up a pen. Her work has been accepted in various publications including Blank Spaces Magazine, Ghost Orchid Press, Dark Rose Press, Black Hare Press, Love Letters to Poe, and Off Topic Publishing. She studied English Literature at the University of Western Ontario and now lives along the shores of Lake Huron. She is currently writing her first novel.