Just Summer
Air escaped my lungs.
filtered through each hole like a sponge.
His touch was tender
until metal met muscle.
And his heart gave way.
I counted each sun kissed petal
that fluttered past the bees
and landed on my dress.
"He loves me,"
"He loves me not."
An injection of honey suckle makes the sting
go away.
He told me of bees and how
when they sting you, they die.
I hope it was worth it.
Rain laps at green leaves
and blades.
As summer closes
it's pollinated doors.
By: Brandi Deacon
2010
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