A Thousand Blackberries for Love+We mosey out naked on mother’s milk,+blind, untrammeled, born so briefly gorgeous,+with our wild mouths agape, drunk on sun silk,+green like backwater from mountain gorges.+Desperation surrenders, we ripen,+skinny arms, and we begin to farm love,+like sad faithful babies, planted neck high in+earth that once sat so dark in hunger of+ a thousand blackberries. We would leave none,+not a drupelet for the goats or sparrows.+Pretty spines, in time, crumble in the sun,+soused in violet sap, violent prose.+ Perish in a most humble love affair,+and you are gorgeous, once and everywhere.+
