The virgin queen bee

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Lance Sheridan

A garden of daisies mouthing for air. White
Speckled petals dilate in the sun, peeling
Back the morning dew. The bees encroach,
Circle and circle, a well of pollen collected
For a virgin queen in a combed frock hive,

Her heart chaste, sister of a monotonous drone.

Her wings trumpet open to the buzzing of her subjects;
The golden honey drips its sticky fluid down.
In her chambered boudoir, streaked with orange and brown,
Suitors nod their stingers, potent as kings to father a dynasty;
A fruit that is bitter to taste: dark flesh, heads off:

All coffined to swarming ants, hungrily clambering, awaiting death.

Copyright © 04/24/2019 lance sheridan®

The virgin queen bee

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