Dónall Dempsey - Preserve

Tongues stained
with blackberries

we collect kisses

falling into ditches

being stung by nettles.

Your dress snags on a briar
and you cry in mock horror.

I cut through the tangle of thorns
as if I were your Prince.

Charming me
you undo
your buttons
& you
(step out of your dress)

as if you were being
stepping out of your self.

Your dress hangs
like a chrysalis.

You let down your golden hair
& we make love then &

there...a tractor & some cows go by
we laugh & try to hide.

The sun beats down on my bum
we giggle & come

return
to the big old dirty

town
&
turn

our blackberry picking days
into luscious winter jam.

Dónall Dempsey

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