Poem: my body is failing me (the bees returned)

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Photo by Delia Giandeini on Unsplash

What I want
All I really wanted
Just to live my life on high

“I’ve Been High,” R.E.M.

i. <my body is failing me>

my body is failing me aging
in ways only my lover knows

with the bittersweet awareness of intimacy
and then briefly revealed disappointment

i watch my lover paint her fingernails black
her bare feet with toenails candy apple red

if i took a picture to hold her/us there
as if i could stop time from buzzing by

it still would change nothing about me
a body failing me and her there on the floor

ii. <the bees returned>

the bees returned

a couple weeks into november
a hurricane well to our south
pushing summer-like fall back
over us after a first taste of winter

honey bees and yellow jackets
swarming in the warming air
while thunderstorms surrounded us
overdressed in long sleeves and jackets

iii. <this>

i have told her everything i can so far
into a yellowing life that less remains now

but this:

bee stings swell and ache
in the cusp of fall and winter
as if it were the heart of summer

—P.L. Thomas

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