If my memory could disintegrate to ash speckles
Expect that a dazzling fire would be set ablaze to the flora of my mind
I'd scatter and pinch the black bits in the nectar of flowers
Watching unsuspecting bees take them away into the spring air
So when others are stung by pesky wasps and buzzing yellow-jackets
Their wounds will swell red with your name
A passing boy will wear your welt while I run on this sunny day
And as I attempt to read it, I'll have unknown gratuity that I can't process it's significance