I am a Wasp in the glass
Though I long to be the Bee
Buzzing low above the grass
Courting Flower to bear seed
Bash my skull toward the light
To form a crack before me
Yearning to touch — despite
Being O, so prickly
Will I learn to pollinate
The Garden — beckons me, sweet
Look for a petiole, to *******
Make intoxicant — Honey!
May you savour me from afar —
I hear distance puts you at ease —
See me shooting past — a Star
To make a wish upon thee
I fear what holds me back
A cunning clarity unseen
For even foresight I lack
Though the crystal is plenty clean
No speck of dust, or food, or warmth
Only wings. Waxen; fatigued
I beg to be held. To be swarmed
Just not like this, trapped beaneath
Now I can only soar, so tall
Before smoke beckons me, to sleep
I fear the stumble before the fall
Deceptive Summers that precede
I dream of a hive, abundant
Brimming with ***** and bodies
Of those alike and less repugnant
The kind you love to set free.