Forgiveness

I couldn’t help
eating those
black cherries
from the fridge
and which you
tried to hide
away from me
to save them
for our
Sunday breakfast.

Forgiveness.

Right in the middle
of this July night
I couldn’t help
munching those
black cherries.
Chilled cherry juice
running down
my hot throat
was more
than delicious.

‚t was

divine.