Ok. It's a click in your brain. Mine. It's these bright red berries, clear, with cunning seeds. They stuck in my throat that night as my eyes burned with the boiling vinegar behind me. I wanted to offer you something more real, more me. I can't buy and wrap love with foresight, it all comes out in a tumble. I could have burst like one of these packed berries, so firm, full of heart. Firm of heart. We are hearts, we wring them til dry in the sun sometimes, but you're as steady as glass. I delight in squeezing these currants til they bust with juice.