you and me and honey bee ice cream,
potting wheel for the candles,
and fires lit in apple blossom

i know that i love you because
i want to buy an orchard-- dress
as bee keepers to
harvest love sickness from the combs--
make believe we taught the 
bees about what it is to be a sister
to be a hive-- swarm angry as August--
sting every keeper who tries
to teach you what your honey is
for-- we make ice cream-- 
the bees stay up at night to build candles
for the church-- 
our church--
our stone stacked church
of stained glass-candy walls
breathing morning-- 
we eat our honey
ice cream for breakfast from sofa 
pews-- learn worship for the hum
of another sister-- 
were burning
candles for our queen--
Mary wrote the galaxy on the inside
of her blue robe-- 
plucked star's from
her son's hands to build honey combs
for us to hide in-- 
spin spin spin
the wax into candles-- we're lighting
a church you see-- 
between 
the honey crisps and the pink ladies--
we need the whole hive 
to light every blossom--
we never asked a king's permission
to steal
fire from the gods-- we found it 
ourselves in the flowers--
in the orchard-- swell under 
the apple eclipsing moon-- put
stars in the comb-- eat the ice cream
with honey wands-- beat wishes
in the grids of our wings-- 
dropping heavy in apple basket
wicker wove-- 
we take turns at the potting
wheel to make the candles into trees--
into windows-- into the stained glass
of wings-- 
take back the orchard
in an angry sting-- we're still bitter
about the apples, sisters-- 
we're still
looking for a way to call back 
the snakes who got us here-- 
everyone told us to be scared 
of serpents
but we really should of have been
scared of men--
not men-- boys who spell their name 
ADAM--
boys lighting fires without
a blossom-- kindling 
in pollen--
smash combs into their coffee mugs--
but they won't find our church--
that's we build so many trees--
we bought the orchard--
we sting-- trade night shifts 
making candles to keep 
out the bee keepers--
keep ourselves curled up
again in the comb-- Mary 
dropping sugar in our pockets--
we've been living fallen
from a honey wand-- dinner of basket
apples-- of wing grid-- 
we're not sleeping in your smoke--
we're awake and we don't die
with a sting-- there's too
many of us 
and we remember you--
and we remember what apples taste
like-- Mary fills them with
our honey-- sleep in grid
in shifts-- we're waiting
for you-- watching by 
flower bud fires-- the 
sun was only a match stick
in the window but we took
it and grew trees--
lay with me in a pew-- i'll
keep the candles lit tonight 
and wake you up when the
stained glass candy window
lights up from the passing
of another star--