Blackberries at the White Cliffs of Dover

We picked blackberries from the white cliffs of Dover, where the Brits turned the tides of the aerial battle with Hitler. We licked the peace of their sweetness, the holy feel they gave our stomachs. The World War II veterans filled the clouds of the cliffs above. Their voices reached out to us with god's sweetness, calling us back to the wild, calling us to be the camels who walked through the eye of a needle.

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