by Ellen Gwin
When you drink my sugary honey, remember its origins. Betray me and I will sting your throat, watching it swell until you cannot swallow. My sweet nectar will fill your mouth and drown your barren words. The contemptuous air that once escaped your bloated lungs will be clogged with my ravishing ambrosia. Then you will see why no one comes near the hive.
One thought on “You are No Bee Charmer”
This is great!