Strawberry dreams

On nights when the temperature rise steadily,
and the green sheen reaches into my room over the broken shards of the city.
I think back,
before the big void,
Before they tore it apart with claws and tendrils.
I remember the warm nights I fed you cold strawberries
and you sprinkled ice water on me.

And I wonder if you’re still out there screaming. 

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