“Don’t crush the daises,” I think,
Two naked souls rolling among them
Like a pair of kittens,
The dark hearts of each flower exposed,
Petals spread wide, looking not like faces
I think, when I see them, and recall
That silly TV show that said
Not to eat them when that’s all I ache to do,
Needing to thrust myself inside
A perfectly busy bee spreading its seed
Each one mirroring the sun
Each exuding warmth I can feel on my face
As I press my lips closed to theirs,
Dipping the tip of my tongue inside each
To taste pollen that tastes nothing like honey
Hoping that if I keep at this long enough,
And stretch myself down deep enough,
I something might explode inside of me.
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