A Bee Reflects
Buttercup, I am the fluxing
structure that connects.
You and I are the universe,
a dancing couplet specked
in the whirl of timelessness;
the flaming flowering
of our singularity.
Buttercup, I fed the leopard
through the veins of time,
contriving sequences:
the hard poetry of hunger,
the gravity of death,
a single cell to petals
to tragic wings
Buttercup, we are rolling,
though a long darkness
through our lonely selves.
We are the flickering spark
in the will of the endless way,
of the burning down
of beauty.
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