Bee-stung.

IMG_1003

Your bee-stung lips draw me in and their sweetness satisfies me –
but the taste of the sting of your tongue
is more than bitter.

As much as I love the wine of your kisses –
your words are hemlock.

Don’t love me then curse me,
don’t curse me then kiss me.

If you would make me yours, hold me close enough to not hurt me
without hurting you –

love us both enough not to hurt us both
just to hurt me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s