Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

My head is a beehive
It trembles like a larwine - lump because of the bees that crouch in it.
The mass of my thick thought honey, heavy, sinking in this swamp.
When will they fly away to reap new honey? I long for my recovery of their stitches, dull.
And I pray, speak to God, that it will take aeons until this packed swarm is back and hugs me again.