poetry

honey

honey,

I say,

is the only food

that will never

spoil.

they watch me

with no comprehension

and the bee moves

gently

along his fingers

in the afternoon

sun.

they do not understand

why this matters;

he tries to hand

the bee to me

but I flinch from

his outstretched palm–

too many strikes

 

from palms

of glass and

empty promises,

holding false gifts

that glint in

faded light.

we continue on

but honey

will never spoil

and my memories

someday

will.

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poetry, Uncategorized

mirror, mirror

mirror, mirror,

on the wall–

we all know how

this one starts.

it starts with a princess

and a queen

and an apple.

and it starts with a mirror

who told the truth.

because what could a queen be

if not beautiful?

does the mirror not lie

like mine does?

maybe it just wanted to see

what the queen could possibly be

if not for fairest in the land–

fairest, perhaps,

but with greed, and hate–

the ugliest beauty there is.

after all, what is beauty?

 

 

mirror, mirror,

on the wall,

who’s the fairest

of them all?

 

not I, says the mirror,

not I, I agree.