Art of the Hive

“The lanes are littered with the bodies of bees. / A torrent took them, swarming in branches / just as the white buds loosened their hearts / of pale yellow powder. Each body is a lover: / the one with skin blank as pages; the one / so moved by the pulse ticking in your throat; / the one who took your lips in his teeth / and wouldn’t let go; the one who turned / from you and lay there like a carcass. If we were/ made to be whole, we wouldn’t be so lost / to each offering of tenderness and a story. / Therefore our greatest longing is our home. / There is always the one bee that circle and circles, / twitching its sodden wings.” ~ Melissa Stein, “Olives, Bread, Honey, and Salt”