Pale gold and crumbling with crust
mottled dark, almost bronze,
pieces of honeycomb lie on a plate.
Flecked with the pale paper
of hive, their hexagonal cells
leak into the deepening pool
of amber. On your lips,
against palate, tooth and tongue,
the viscous sugar squeezes
from its chambers, sears sweetness
into your throat until you chew
pulp and wax from a blue city
of bees. Between your teeth
is the blown flower and the flower's
seed. Passport pages stamped
and turning. Death's officious hum.
Both the candle and its anther
of flame. Your own yellow hunger.
Never say you can't take
this world into your mouth.
Photography credit: Sabina Samiee (originally color).
Photo by Sabina Samiee (from Paulann's website).
ReplyDeleteThank you for the photo attribution, Edie. Strange how things work out. I found that photo through a Google search, on a page unrelated to Paulann! Looks like both Paulann and I liked the photo, eh? Anyway, it is good now to have the credit. I'll add it to the post.
DeleteDeep peace,
PCD