From the Vine to Make Mine
I’m a bit of a backwoods baby girl
In my delicious, lush like blackberries dripping purple from a vine feminine era
Maybe we could crush some up and dye my skin
Later lick away the sour sweetness raw tongue hot against me
The exchange of heat tickling the bare inches of our bodies as you move closer
I am small and sweet, like a berry held between your fingertips
Place that berry juice exactly where you want it
Purple stained handprints across my body
From length of spine, seeds intermingled with the sticky paint
Your arms wrapped so tight around my ribs
Just like the bush covering over the earth below
As if they dig themselves inward to the moss and soil
Those brambles a holy crown of touch, desire, ecstasy
Our hillbilly ritual of protection and magic
My body wrapped in fruitful thickets of supple delight
From the vine
To make mine