Queen

 
The way the bees pull apart the Borage
pack their bags and fly off
I raise my head
and pluck the air with my lips
marvel at their weightlessness
at the way they stain the sky
when they swarm

Striking against the sun
their toy-yellow appearance
is a child’s design that floats
from the bottom up
small stars of exquisite bitterness
a wood-fire of stingers
minute eyes of splintered black ice

They have invented a secret
the persuading of waterless pollen
into Royal Jelly
while the queen dominates
with her dangerous sex
the pure poison of ecstasy
spilling a violent sweetness

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from my fourth book 'The Translator'
(Transcendent Zero Press, 2015)

"Queen" was first published in
'Dead Snakes Journal'

Amazon search: the translator/dah