Fermented

Fields are alive with crows
They're busy pecking out my eyes
I'm hushed away like an overdose
Turning in as they turn off the lights

We are matching
But only on our skin
A ring to remember
An inky mess within

I ferment in your rain
And I forgot the taste
Was it strawberry sulfur
Or flushed California spade?

I don't know where I end
But you start at Summer shade.