Violets
by
Rebecca Berry
When
I pull off my shirt I see it again
Flowers
blooming
Violets,
always violets
No
daisies or sun flowers
Just
violets that whisper
Forget-me-not
Just
violets from you
So
dark, round and often misshapen
Tattooed
over my breastbone
To
the small of my back
And
the crevice of my hips
Always
nesting like a tiny bird
Some
days it’s just the one
Curled
up tight into the crook of my arm
Where
I barely notice
Other
days it’s like my body is a field
Where
you scattered those dark blossoms
You
never asked me if I wanted them
Never
told me where you’d inherited yours
But
I promise I will try to keep them
And
not let them spread to someone else’s skin.
Rebecca
Berry: “I
am originally from Indianapolis. I graduated from Earlham College
last year with a bachelors in Comparative Languages and Linguistics.
After graduating I devoted a year of service with an AmeriCorps
program, and since have been devoting my time to beginning my career
as a writer.