poetry

Project Honey

By Amy Thomson

Shoes shuffled squares of grey,
Arm in arm one Spring Thursday,
House museums lined the streets,
Project Honey we would complete.

Ceiling portals opened wide,
Honey sister by my side,
Lights shined through the dancing plaster,
Heartbeats raced faster, faster.

Sticky membranes were my sky,
She saw jungles through her third eye,
Sank beneath the arctic sea,
With my favorite honeybee.

Lava lamps and Christmas lights
Were our suns on this great night.
Venus kept us safe and sound,
In our girl hive, sisters bound.

Then flew in the phallic drones,
We had to leave our royal thrones.
Flew outside to pollinate,
Struggled just to acclimate.

Seeds of fear sprouted their buds,
Water drops became flash floods.
Spooked by gutter’s gurgling mouth,
Sisters started flying south.

I had to leave my fellow queen,
Returned to my hive, began to wean
Never would we forget this trip,
In our golden honey ship.

 

 

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