Tender

I roll a blackberry between my two gentle fingers,

just feeling the cool surface of it

contrast with my overwarm body in the summer heat.

I want to be so tender that the flesh never tears.

This life and its many cruelties have pushed me

beyond my limit, but all I have ever wanted

is to be whole, to be seven years old and picking blackberries off the bush, letting the fruit ripen, feeling the sun

on my neck. A sunburn could be my greatest pleasure.

We swim laps in the pool,

whoever can swim end to end

without coming up for air first wins.

And I keep diving, letting the bubbles slowly rise

to the surface as I cut the water with my body.

My lungs expand in one big breath right before I go under, and I can’t open my eyes underwater but I know

what I would find:

the shape of you right beside me, wanting.