By Alexa DiSalvo
Stop meeting me in the dark alcoves
Sticky honeycomb nightmare treasure troves
Why do I wander night after night
Beneath dripping subconscious stalactite
Looking for you?
We rendezvous in hollows
Your back to me, or a stranger who follows
We sit on bees’ faces, belly up to waxen bar
I miss you terribly as we sip feral nectar
I stare into the side of your smearing face
But you shift and shake in hexagonal space
As though you don’t even know
I am there.
Smoky morning light and alarm snare
Rip us apart, sapless, droopy, bare
Stinger throbbing in my chest
I flop about our dismantled nest
Remembering you are gone
Every single solitary dawn.