The keeper of bees.
The title you've established
over years hidden in your back yard.
Beneath a protective fabric,
between scented oils on your forearms,
and dry skin among your palms.
Appeasing the buzzing needs of black and yellow friends,
you tend to them night and day.
You are a member of their hive.
About Me.
- Emma Cherry
- In a yellow sumbarine, Liechtenstein
- We must blend into the choir Sing as static with the whole. We must memorize nine numbers and Deny we have a soul. And in this endless race for property and Privilege to be won. We must run, we must run, we must run.
