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.