Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #165
I Clean The Honeycomb
by Belinda Roddie
I clean the honeycomb out of my teeth
and cut the cornstalks from between my toes,
as the sea rises around me. I reach
for something soft. Instead, I grab a rose
oblivious to the pain. I have felt
a hundred times worse agony at night,
when my demons, who have already dealt
enough bruises, strip away any light
that leads me to the shore. I'll suck the salts
out of my wounds; I'll drink the water, too.
Still, the stinging will trap me in its waltz
and won't subside. My dreams are painted blue.
They're always blue, though gold shall still remain
upon my tongue - the honey, and the grain.
by Belinda Roddie
I clean the honeycomb out of my teeth
and cut the cornstalks from between my toes,
as the sea rises around me. I reach
for something soft. Instead, I grab a rose
oblivious to the pain. I have felt
a hundred times worse agony at night,
when my demons, who have already dealt
enough bruises, strip away any light
that leads me to the shore. I'll suck the salts
out of my wounds; I'll drink the water, too.
Still, the stinging will trap me in its waltz
and won't subside. My dreams are painted blue.
They're always blue, though gold shall still remain
upon my tongue - the honey, and the grain.
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