BEEHIVE
Queen bee...
come to the mirror that awaits you
and spills the yellowish liquid light
around your breasts
where the grown child girds itself
at the bottom of your love...
In the secret paths of your skin
your sweetness becomes flesh
and the gardens bloom when naming you,
to touch you is to remain in the glare
of your precious … (read more)

BEEHIVE
Queen bee...
come to the mirror that awaits you
and spills the yellowish liquid light
around your breasts
where the grown child girds itself
at the bottom of your love...
In the secret paths of your skin
your sweetness becomes flesh
and the gardens bloom when naming you,
to touch you is to remain in the glare
of your precious heart of shining gold
and honeycombs of turgid softness.
I go to you...
queen of silk windows
I follow your footsteps
of rich and mysterious honey,
queen of flower and flight
buzz...
next to the sharp nectar of flowers
...In this exquisite yellow river
It's where I want to drown...