Mirabelle Brandy

Ellery Beck

Behind a marbling of purples and blues,

a translucent plum for the world to swallow. Left

feeling picked, prepped, so soon

 

nuzzled in a divot caressing 

the coastline. Sweet and soft like the song

on my tongue, a fall from 

 

the highest. You can reach your hand, a glow

of the reflecting sunlight as you pull, too

soon, too swift. I’ll embrace the flight             

 

but don’t forget to count my bruises when I reach

the evergreen bed below. The sound

of my core echoing hit you like a freezing

 

gale. A splintering ladder, build me upward

to where I once was (despite my distance, my

difference). It’s okay to pull me down, bury me

 

in your arms, leave me earth

cold. I know you felt the crack in the oak,

the words inside your hands.