Mulberry

I'd pick them One by one From that mulberry tree Hours on end After school I would forage and eat The dinner My mother cooked Untouched at an empty seat I knew it well That sour taste So familiar on my tongue The street lights Started to glow So I made my way home I walked in My palms over my ears To tune out the screams of everyone In my room I'd see the stains on my hands And wonder what I had done Self-Portrait & Poem by Randall Patrick Camera: Mamiya 645 Film: Cinestill 800t