Fig . 345 we went strawberry - picking a decade ago but it feels like only last summer ; crushed fruits between the palms of our hands and played make - believe like the juice staining our fingertips cherry - pink was a blood bond which ran down to our grazed elbows in fading rivulets . there’s something desolate about childhood that reminds me of you whenever i eat w i l d berries , how we went foraging , bare - skinned , how we went searching for something we never even knew was missing .













