Sting

A sting we are awaiting in porch
Since we are girls with bare backs
It is where stings should happen-
A swarm of bees no , just a single
Coming from nowhere, from sky.

The bees make a ruckus as beards.
Beards sting when they are stubble.
On backs they tingle as adventures.

In poet’s myth a bee brings pollen
On wee legs, what a beauty spread
What fragrance in morning breeze.
A sting is worth it for immortality
It confers on backs as in olde poems.

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