I know you want me
but the bees count
every second I spend with you and
I want you too
it is almost like you can see
through the buzz
the bees are fond of you
that's why they're scared
my honey could never heal
the bee's sting
sharp and quick that springs from
fickle swings but
they don't feel like my bees
if my bees had colors
they would be faithful and selfless
and without the stinger which
leaks black ink into my honey
and fills my heart with splinters
I would be better off without my bees
but my roots are planted into their hive
and I will never be able to leave
I don't know if you
will still love me
when you discover them
——ask for translation/analysis
