When the bees fell in
Love with the
Queen of Winter, I was
Born from
Honey, pine, snow, wax,
The sound of bells on a
Cold, clear night
Pierced with stars and wishes
And when I caught fire,
I was her mirror,
Redolent of
Lemon when her
Fingers tapped,
Peppermint for her mornings,
Salt when tears
Froze on her cheeks,
Roses for her
Dreams of the hive.
We burn, ice and flame,
Through winter, and
In the spring, our
Dreams wake in the
Honey on your tongue.
