Parable of desire
& in the end we have nothing are nothing
& the husks of the bees litter the ground beneath the hive
& the keeper sweeps the dead into stinging piles
& quietly weeps for the silence
& the unmolested flowers
& their profligate useless beauty
& all around him like a dirge
& pollen sticky in the throat sticky in the lungs
& a dead bee weighs less than a feather
& nobody dances for the queen
& their abandoned architectures
& the end of desire
& after disaster we can only travel so far
& the heart of the wasteland recovers last
& sometimes the distance is too great
& the sakura petals fall
& pool in puddles like doom
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