Bees buzz around me wherever I go.
Home, work, car, shower, and bed.
They orbit around me
like little yellow moons.
I’m not sure if the spiders are my friends,
or if they’re in on it too,
because they weave their webs wherever I walk,
and yet, the bees continue to follow.
I’ve never been stung,
but i think they extract my dreams as i sleep
and carry them away to another flower.
Entire generations of bees
must have lived and grown old at my side,
and when their time comes, desperate to get outside,
they bash themselves against the glass.
When i lose track of them, it goes silent,
and I always find them dead
an inch awayfrom an open window.