Believe Me

I wanted nothing more
than to be your apiary,
your lone hive laid out in a meadow,
down by the water, cattle grazing,
wildflowers in bloom.

I loved you like a bee loves,
like a worker bee ready to sting its way
through to suicide,
just to keep intruders out.
I wanted only to huddle close to you,
to warm you in cold weather.

I loved you with the blind passion of a drone,
driven to mate in its short season,
with no hope of return
or recognition, no name listed
in the back of the program.

And finally, I loved you
the way the queen bee herself loves,
the way she plots her escape
as she lumbers silently across the frame,
recreating herself in the darkness.

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