bees nest 

the first bee i saw crawled on the back window
in late june. little did i know that soon
they would fill every moment with words
about their hugeness. they would whisper
as i would try to sleep & even when i tried
to kiss you, "you know we are the size
of the whole side of the house." i didn't live 
there long but i dreamed of winning enough money
to buy our little row house even with 
with fractured foundation. a part of me
was maybe dreaming of holding on to the bees.
owning them like they owned me.
it was not long until the whole back hallway
stank of their death. a musty sweet smell.
their bodies laying in little graveyards.
i vacuumed them up & more would come.
they watched me constantly & so they knew too much.
"you are in love with unraveling" they'd pronounce
& i would say, "i know." the nights 
i drove to see you even when the moon
was eating his own eyes. climbing, like a pear
into your mouth & begging, "will you make me
your little god." i envied the life
of the hidden queen. every single bee
as he died sang of her. to be loved like air.
to be loved with rampant hunger.
i think my love of the bees was really
a craving for the house to devour us. 
make us into bees too. the work, they said,
was hard but you got used to it. dying 
in search of the sun just to be reborn
as a hum. when i left the bees were furious.
i didn't want you there. i didn't want you
to see how much i begged them to wait for me.
i cut off a finger & handed it over.
pleaded, "let this be a brother." they dispersed.
by this time they were the walls themselves.
they said, "take your blood with you."
i still find carcasses sometimes 
in old boxes. old shoes. i hoard them.
lay them out on a line in the windowsill.