• Endria Richardson

I did not ever like a raspberry.

I did not ever like a raspberry. It is tart. It has seeds. It is a red not enough red

But almost pink. As though it Had lost its dye; bled out. Or it was dusty, or one had

Rubbed the rouge from its cheeks. But still its cheeky body. Plump, haired, Full of juice. A staining, pink-red

Unsatisfactory juice. That Makes a red, dripping mouth pucker As though for a kiss, or

Requesting another berry. It makes the mouth mutiny; For I did not want another.

And the seeds, remember. They catch in your white teeth, and Will not come out.

It does not matter with what you brush, or gargle. Their thin bite remind

For days to come, It would have been better not to bite it.

Your mouth is still so red, so bloody From the ripe unsavory berry.

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