Honey

I’m the one who gets to love you

hold you

kiss you

run my fingers through your hair.

Time had a way of aligning our footsteps for a minute

and something from deep under your lungs

gave you a cup of confidence to talk.

Never ending cornfields to the great lakes

across five states and too many miles of concrete

I managed to catch you in Oswego.

I am a bee.

You are golden

sweet

succulent honey.

You ooze bliss

look like a trophy

and are almost a little to sweet,

but I’ve got you.

Without you

I would never have bloomed like this

I would never know desire

like sweet nectar

dripping

draining down a cold silver spoon.

Hot like pavement stinging toes

is your love.

Sensational like midday rainstorms in June

is your love.

Honest like bees in summer on lilies

is your love.

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