bran

remember how i stroked the bee that hovered
over the bones of your wrists, and felt your strength
in that ink and epidermal kiss?
and how you stung, but instead tore out my guts.
you swelled my belly with your farewell,
my baby larva, my honeybee.
born without your spirals and swirls,
but with your eyes
and your dark dusting of curls.