POEM: THORN
The pregnant thorn
Knows not the pricks
It carries to term
Drawing blood messages
From itself to myself
From me to you
It carries fruit through
Each harvest trimester
Squeeze its newborn
Black and rasp
Berries gush staining
Scored human skin
It spreads its kin
Thorns and shoots
Until there is no
Beginning or end
Img src = https://unsplash.com/@enka80
Posted using Partiko iOS
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