Cherries

Red in the cheeks, you are the the sweetest fruit.

We exist in hypotheticals.

Perhaps in a universe far away from this one, we actually made it.

Perhaps in a different universe, you picked up cherries on your way home and brought them to me. Perhaps in that life we baked a pie that autumn night and fell deeply in love with each other’s flaws.

Maybe in a different universe, somewhere out there, we never got pulled apart at the stem.

Instead, in this universe, we never made it. You and I were there bitterest fruit. Torn apart at the stem.