Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Stingler Of Comforts Come

tears like rain from a
black cloud
so black the rain itself
is pulled inside
as the bee buzz  
escape assures me
me, this morning
doesn't know how to be mean
and pretty at the same time.



Whatever said...

I know inexactly what you mean
a precision uncertainty
as familiar as my own changed name.
And the way you repeat on me
as if there must be at least two
not meaning to be mean,
or not meaning everything at all.

rivercat said...

i really love this. the multi imagery a bee sensing honey:))