You Had Me at Wild Blackberries:
drupelets erupted in your mother’s pie pan kitchen fan whirred above monarchs applauded between the thorns. We walked to the top of Sanctuary Hill your voice a malachite-gold leaf slipped down my thigh and you had me at dusk, when purples arise dependent on grass that licks a crooked mountain and the blackberry juice that stains the lines of your lips.
Sophia Cirignano is a philosophy student at the University of Vermont whose Italian heritage and pisces star sign have her tearing up often about fresh metaphors and apt imagery. She has been writing poems since they emerged in the form of flip books about blossoming raccoon friendships. Besides writing and studying, Sophia focuses her energy on dancing, baking mediocre bread, and wanting to live in Paris.