suspended in honey

hazy warm air,

a bee’s sense of lasisse fair

i run my fingers through my growing

golden hair

marveling that i feel young again

never mind the glimpse of my actual reflection

my true self possesses some

certain something that never really leaves

that j nais c’set qua

and leftover aplomb

that suspends my true nature

in a state of honey

golden, glowy

a little bit showy

sexy and sweet

but be careful…

do not add heat

i’ve no fear of drowning in it,

rather

what I fear

is that in some

strange suspended state

my mind will harden like amber

around an illusion

of fate

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