Blackberry, blackberry come
purchase your sweetness from the sun,
pleasures flicker on blackened bones,
thorns rend secrets sworn.
Tongues cut from frothing mouths joined
as purple ink slices the page.
My stone head drops and
rolls across the floor,
a history crumbles under each turn,
memory stiffens as eyesight fails.
Do not forget to entomb your sweetness
for me,
growing wild in the brambles you.
Blackberry,
my blackberry, come.
The Thread Is Red 
Gorgeous ‘purchase your sweetness from the sun’ – really arresting! We used to have a blackberry bush at the back of the garden in our old house – or should I say, the blackberry bush had the garden? The fruit is delicious, but boy, does the bush spread all over!
My grandparents had wild blackberry bushes all over their farm in South Carolina. I think that is where I developed my love for the berry and fear of the black snake that liked to thread itself in the vines! Funny what you remember in just one bite.