"a splendid spot to perish" by beatrice bee

plush meadow thick, like the mop of an evergreen love speckled instinctively with dandelions marking its fertility –i bring my palm to my duafe which beast of the divine bestowing her highest honor releasing it all carried; re-entering the soup time’s folding us all into the dawn of my thirty-fourth –yes us all, broken down. ribs sprouting with floral aplomb tufts of fur and moss matrimonial i don’t wrestle my angel we kiss sweetly after sharing the heavenly cup she shares with me the burden of misattributed humanity we swap prophetic missives of beauty at once, a faithful servant angel asks “do you know how it feels to die and be re-born?” i tighten my grip and stare off into rigid dark my death never quite holds how naive i was in youth our lessons never far behind us a raven honks “amelia, it was just a false alarm” i soothe earth angel i say “we’re reflections of each other” i pray it’s really true sitting where god’s feet once were grass bearing phantom heft tears shed for wilder rebirths and to be rid of the pain ————————————– beatrice bee called us from Philadelphia, PA. voicemailpoems.org/submit/ facebook.com/voicemailpoems x.com/voicemailpoems bsky.app/profile/voicemailpoems.bsky.social instagram.com/voicemailpoems