Rare as a Blood Moon
A raspberry is sweet—
yet seeing you leaves me fresh and sour,
regretting I didn’t find you sooner.
You make me pop when you smile,
like a golden retriever greeting the world
with pure joy.
You make me burst like confetti
the moment you show your heart.
You leave me wordless,
blank as white paper,
whenever you stick out your tongue.
You are rare as a blood moon
when your eyes open wide.
Will these sacred words ever reach you
before I leave this world?
This feeling crushes me gently—
like a raspberry pressed into juice,
slowly draining me,
yet never losing its sweetness..
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