I walk into swarming bees
to taste your honey. I
swallow sweet and sting
and comb alike. The hum
of your buzz and buzz
of your hum sticks golden
in my chest. The queen is
dying. You scratch and
mourn and bury her still
alive. Watch her wings
crush from collapsing
earth. You sing her floral
song with your failing
hands. I follow your
procession. Sway with
the bee-death dance. It’s
the corners of your eyes I
want to kiss now. Lick
every last drop.
First published on velvet-tail.
Sarah Thursday 