*A Little, Honey-Stained Note.
*A Little, Honey-Stained Note. belongs to the following groups:
Lesbian and Bi-Women's ArtWhat do we truly really ever know?
It’s such as sprawling, jaunting wild thing to face;
The Shadowed monsters of doubt.
Find the ‘truth’ in the aftertaste upon your tongue,
The bitter tang of sweet honeys forced to rancid stain.
One year past.
A year spent slowly drying out the sugar.
Connect the two like cut strings,
The last wet sweet drips of a year ago,
Desperation in my head attempts to transplant its sugar,
Stick the golden substance to tomorrow.
Holding some hope that it may reclaim tomorrow.
A year, a moment ago, the honey stuck our lips like glue.
Burn those brittle pieces between then-and-now, out the back,
Scattered remains round the dumpsters,
The Cancer of the year past.
Scratch the film back to those last flickering sweet honeymoon drips..
How the world swoons on honey.
They paint and dream and slide across days in it’s sweet golden trails.
There seems to be so much of it.
As though each heart in the whole world holds its own hive,
Aflutter, full of bees,
Ready to spill forth such sweetness unimaginable,
If only we concede to take courage,
Against the bitter tang stinging of their swell;
Brave their thorns.
When did you and I choke on our courage?
Where did we forfeit the nerve to face the fluttering electrifying bees,
Risk their swell for the sweet?
When did their honey coated love dust,
Fail to find it’s pooling in your eyes?
Your lips?
Your gentle hand?
So much honey.
Will it dare to pour again?
Someone else’s eyes?
For me?
For you?
It seems to be so much of it.
It’s sickly stores bring me tiring nausea.
Flowing viscose through their vibratory hum,
In the middle of their hive,
Hidden in my heart.
Drained once by the pools in your eyes,
Spent once,
For coating your gentle hands,
Tasting sweetness upon your mouth.
Drained.
How cruel that they produce more still.
Stolen from new flowers, sapping fresh bud.
How cruel that they may sweeten the shadow monsters of doubt.
Smearing sweetness
Connecting the years
Blurring further, the haze we once so coveted,
Promising softly through the amber glow,
A fresh bud,
Dew-drop pools of eyes,
And hands, and mouth;
A transplant of haze.
Another, Sweet, Bitter, Doubt.
Elysia Ranking
wow