He hears the door bell ring and thinks if this is all there is to it then he will be okay. Thinks of sunflowers turning slowly. He thinks of how the soil under his nails carries seeds and how those seeds carry the idea of flowers and how those flowers will one day be fucked by bees and grow out of their own centres to become strawberries. He thinks, How sweet these berries will be. How stickily they will crush between her fingers. How her hands will learn to pluck them just right. He hears the door bell ring a second time. Doesn’t bother feigning quiet. He slices a pear in two. He thinks about the two bundles of light and song that fill him with so much light and song and hopes they will be home soon. He knows that when they return home the smaller of the two will be sleepy eyed and curled inside the other. He thinks of this and unfolds his throat. He eats the pear in four bites. The door rings a third time. He holds his hands under the Water. Goes to the door. Unlocks it. The sun is so bright. The men on the other side are dark suited and stuffed with big g God. They want to talk about salvation.

They smile like saints. Hum like psalms.

He holds out his hands to theirs. Flowers bursting from his fingers. Bees buzzing in his palms.

One thought on “Strawberries”

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