Sunday, September 18, 2016

Hush, don't point me
to the blossom
I would rather drown
in the fragrance alone

Forget the sweetness
Of the nector
I would rather be dizzy
On the buzz
Of the maddened bees

Its never the sound 
of approaching footsteps
The sky tries in vain 
to paint a face
I tremble yet again 
only to hear my own heart race
Till all the rest 
Fall silent. 

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