blackberry brambles
they cover your yard
you invited me over
to come pick them
placed into a little woven basket
when I first moved in next door
and my sister dances in the yard
white dress, short brown hair
surrounded by a clean aura
and the pureness of childhood
yet when I see you standing
by your kitchen window
I know exactly what you think
of my sister
and of me
I see you
and your shiny new camera
recording her in the yard
I see the lens following me
from your big black truck
when I walk to university campus
I see the flash go off
a photograph in time
of me in my own home
cooking dinner in the kitchen
caught through the window pane
you’ll take that photo
and you’ll put it on a hard drive
oh how badly I wish
the police had checked your hard drive
the picture of a little girl
dancing in her own backyard
you enrage me
more than you scare me
I know you jerked off
to pictures of me
when I was a kid
but you know
that the cops don’t care