BEES
Without the bees
I wouldn't have
flowers or fruits
or trees
Without the honey
my tea would be
bitter and runny
Without the hives
I wouldn't have
buzzing or baseball
but I'd be alive
But not the bees.
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See Allthe sound of my dad’s guitar playing his favorite chords the typing of my mom’s fingers going through family records the smell of the ceramics studio full of the kiln, dust and glaze the running home
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it’s the little things they always say like how you listen more than you ever have before or how you stopped opening my car door like how you squeeze me tighter in our hugs or how you don’t answer me
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I cant remember the last photo i took maybe it was a mountain maybe my niece maybe myself maybe you looking away no matter what it was it’s the last thing my lense has seen which means it means everyt
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