blackberry fire

i was at downtown credo this morning and they were out of most of their teas. this was fine with me, as i just wanted to get some work done and was only ordering something out of obligation. i ended up with a hot blackberry tea in a gray mug. i don’t really like fruit teas, and to be fair it was vaguely medicinal. but the truth is, i would not have stumbled upon the phrase “blackberry fire” while eavesdropping on the barista’s side conversations and would not have fleshed out the song that followed if downtown credo hadn’t, in fact, run out of most of its teas. so thank you, credo, for the confluence of coincidence that gave rise to this song.

it was under an awning, dawning
i kept under the water, falling deeper
into you.

born too poor for the ocean shore and
too far south for the mountain moor where you
came into view.

and you know it’s real but it hurts me like the deep blue
in palm trees or in ivy i feel thin.
and you feel i don’t love you like i used to
when blackberry fire drew me in.

“what are men next to rocks and mountains?”
it was grand like respighi fountains
thundering on stage.

and now i’m tempted to disconnect it
sketch in graphite and architect my
heaven on this page

and you know it’s real but it hurts me like the deep blue
in palm trees or in ivy i feel thin.
and you feel i don’t love you like i used
when blackberry fire drew me in.

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