Berries

There is always something with the taste of berries. They always have to taste so different from other fruits; tiny, mostly reddish, juicy, sour-sweet, sprinkling, joyous and always just not enough, right when you believe you finally got a hang of the taste they are done, over. They tend to make the impression of being something special, drops of another world left in our, something off limits. It does not really matter whether or not you are aware of their brazen wickedness, they win in the end since there is no way you can stand the temptation and keep away from them. And then, as if the mark of your sin, your weakness is about to stain you for all eternity, they persistently leave their traces on you: all over you. A couple of berries and already you would have a colored tongue, lips, cloths, teeth, fingers, maybe even cheeks and oh yes eyes! No matter how solid your efforts to hide the secret, the sparkles in your eyes will give you out: you have had berries and you have most probably licked your sticky fingers because there was no way you would have let go of the last residues of the magical taste.