Your sweet knees
are confusing to the bees
they fly thirsty, bypassing flowers
petals offering themselves openly
heavy with nectar, gone untasted,
simply because
you wore that skirt today,
that soft fabric that floats
in the air that parts for you
that bares your lovely
legs to the breeze.
Your sweet knees
are confusing to the bees.
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1 comment:
this is a "sweet" poem
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