When Only Paper Can Save

Honey Eyes

Buzzing chime slain, a colony of bees lived in these naturally polished nectar orbs.

Buds of animation grew around a meadow were ovules adapted into a corpse;

terrarium dangled on a portico, guardianship wasn't fair, and left to burn.

Acclimatization drowned each root as the sun and moon didn't turn.

Trees cried amber and leaves, the shimmer scorched the bark.

Grass curled down as shrapnels shattered; loam turned dark.

Petals deteriorate and appear like shriveled plum skin:

wax safeguard demolished and fragmented, to thin.

Transparent wings held nothingness, tumbled;

comb pirouetted when dwarfs crumbled.

Melancholy replenished the gashes.

Incapacitated via eyelashes,

emancipating sticky

honey...