If you swim before the children wake
take me along. Though it is you, Folly Beach
lifer, and me ... [+]
There’s a body in the blueberries.
Inside the hedge
from where the bees emerge
So many bees. So many
I can feel them buzzing
beneath my skin.
They tunnel the tubes
of my earways. They walk
the globes of my eyes.
In through the nose, out
through the mouth, leaving traces,
other bodies they have known,
hair washed with motel shampoo,
the wishes that come before sleep,
snatches of names, leafy muffles.
Each bee plants its message
soon to ripen, swell summer velvet:
it goes white to green to blue.