Skip to main content

Violets, a poem by Rebecca Berry

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


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.