May I have a slice of apple, little Bee?
I’ve been sleeping so long
these days are nights
or days
Shadows heaping and flowing
like fountain ponds of koi
goldfish dipping in
or out
Undulating waters sparkle brightly
glistening scales
or dreams
Sing to me of fields and flowers
I’ll sway in your words
a scale hinged
or grounded
I’d gladly stay if you tend to me
maybe some honey
or a lock
Cast your gaze upon me
and I’ll burn for you
golden entombed wick
or waxen pith
Sweet steeping fruit, dear Bee, come and see to me!