drinking sugar water from a bee's mouth.
I found you in a magic shop,
my little honey bee,
where your buzzing kissed my ears
and so I left the tarot cards on the shelf.
I have learned summer.
I have learned to push the hair
back, away from my face.
I have learned to sing,
to sing and be heard,
to swim in pools of honey
and not be worried
about washing the stickiness from my face.
Life is a million colors;
life is a million and one.
Life is kissing a boy's mouth and
tasting honey on his lips.
Life is letting yourself break,
because where I am broken
I am soft.
With the loss of summer, now,
I feel the cold
and I appreciate the gentle bite,
I am sad to see my honey bee go.
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