Thorns
excerpt from Two Lips, ©2009 Victoria Clayton Munn
Six blackberries rest in my hand
warmed by sweat and a cupped palm
they feel like fairy flesh, soft and beaded
like my budding breasts twenty years ago -
chest poked by thorns in the back field
as I sought crimson-black treasure,
among leaves and tall weeds -
a torn spot in my favorite shirt,
I strained against the fabric
reminded of my gender -
and boys, seeking more than fruit,
I blushed – I purpled
like the berries in my hands
my skin warm and dimpled,
fingers stained by juice
I crossed my arms,
streaked stains on cotton,
the tart taste of my spoils
still lingering on my tongue.