The Raspberry Jam
On how we recollect emotion in our memory of the good times that were.
The raspberry jam tickled her curious mind with its most peculiar taste. What is it?
A smile of the lover in the white sheets draped in the sunrise warmth? A spark flowing in the current with every jolt of the tongue? The one hungry winter night at the morgue? Now I know. It is you codified in my memory, never to disappear.
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