le sucre le plus doux

to feel it sweeeeeep

like a flying wasp

beautiful and bold

hovering above my bed

eyeing me thoughtfully

a virtue of vibration

sprinkling by

gold upon my pinkened cheek

promise of liberation

and

or

exquisite pain

then

a downward swoop

wild laughing

out of almost nowhere

brushing me dangerously

causing a swell of squeal

to bubble up with other singing

and crystal

in a sound bath of intensity

and ooooooo…..O

V

E

R

but only

just beginning to

fill my eager pillow

with

love

le sucre le plus doux

être

 

is this it

drumming

in my sensitive throat

?

this dreamy elevation pounding up my stairs

buzzing like bees behind my ears

eagling awake my Ursa Major

?

this cliche

slapping my eloquence

lathing me into curling pieces

….

I asked her liquid scales

I begged her

I made water coloured love for her

I sang it

I did

I am

I will

être ou ne pas être

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