Because no one is.
I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of my laptop after finishing the berry. There was a smear of red at the corner of my mouth. My hair was falling in my face. I looked slightly feral. I looked alive.
Not the pale, seedy, refrigerated ghosts they sell in plastic clamshells in December. I’m talking about the real thing. The one you find tucked under a green canopy of leaves, still warm from the sun. It is so red it looks like a stop sign. It is so fragrant you can smell it before your lips even touch the skin.
Because no one is.
I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of my laptop after finishing the berry. There was a smear of red at the corner of my mouth. My hair was falling in my face. I looked slightly feral. I looked alive. strawberry ifeelmyself
Not the pale, seedy, refrigerated ghosts they sell in plastic clamshells in December. I’m talking about the real thing. The one you find tucked under a green canopy of leaves, still warm from the sun. It is so red it looks like a stop sign. It is so fragrant you can smell it before your lips even touch the skin. Because no one is