The Colony
It’s the banquet of the beehive.
At the center of the table,
the still tornado of a wasp nest.
We’ve been gifted a handful of stingers.
We’ve been gifted a life of welts.
Peel the bee wings to make bandages.
You, I see, are a mannequin of wax.
You, I see, have tipped the honeycomb into the jar.… Read the rest