what's sweet is death. it must be in his
mouth, whatever attracts them. i am
witness to the steady buzz of his
mortality. it must be. in his mouth.
a pot of liquor they wish to drown in.
to be near him intoxicates. they gently
bump against his open mouth. crawl
on his neck, rest in the collar of his
shirt. but one unexpected laugh or
move and they can kiss hard enough
to swell his tongue and stop his
breathing forever. put an end to words.
what's sweet is death. it must be. in his
mouth. the raw fragility of his tongue.
stop talking and smile with your mouth
closed. i hum and rub against his lips,
the fatal bees between. but they can't
hurt me. i suck out the sting, let poison
dot my rough tongue. so when we
kiss it's just fuzzy drops, soft bee
bodies rolling from mouth to mouth
humming and humming what's sweet
is death. he's doomed. luckily i
can swallow poison, my tongue is well
cured. i can breathe for both of us.
the bite is nothing. it must be in
his mouth, the kiss of bees.
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