I have to admit I am in a quandry.
I can’t decide if I prefer the blackberry cooled by the night air and covered with dawns’ dew drops, fresh and tangy in my mouth and wetter than wet; waking me utterly.
Or, fat blackberry warmed by the afternoon sun and dry to the touch but bursting with juice, sweat and tart all at once in my mouth; leaving my fingers purple and me,
feeling like an empress.
Guess I will take both!