A bee stung me
on my neck - right here
where someday someone
will take my enfeebled pulse.
My glasses swelled.
My clothes medievalized.
I did that primal jig -
the one that opens
the gate to the next
world. I should have
been nicer to you.
I should have
been a way better
neighbour. I should have
dropped a coin
in that cup.
But alas! Whisper
the bee-filled woods
in my burning ear:
"You belong with us."
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