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.