All day long my mind circles
like a dizzy bee
Drunk on the middle line of light
Cast one pebble for who I crave
One for who I cannot seem to want
Honey powder dusting stones
leaving traces
it falls but does not sink
like the bee floating backwards
its wings swimming
legs pumping to grasp
clinging to the fingertip offered
then mercilessly stings
to forget the memory of flowers.

-By the Corbyhawk herself