Notes from the Abdomens of Bees
flower dance code
At the point where neck meets clavicle
an indecipherable thrum of crimson.
Someone watches it quicken.
Sunflowers silky and luminous
tilt towards midday. Voltage agitates
the rhythm of a distant hive.
(iv) The smoke bearer
His hands are restless explorers
named wing and wing.
Honey, thief, I am sleepy
Too sleepy for that
distant spoon full of promises.
A spoon catches the sun in its warm slopes.
Eyes scoop up the signal and its slurred
traces of avocado, sun-dried tomatoes
black olives, lentils, spinach tortillas
burnt sugar, rose petals and berry nectar.
(v) Wing and Wing