My Earliest Memory: a Bee Sting
Buzzing around the sun
Green glistening with skin
As I finger-poke for fun
And bleed open my sin
Brother runs out from the shouts
Pouring peroxide on the prick
While in the mirror I see the doubts
Band-aid wrapping round to stick.
Memory fades from there
As hallways slip into darkness
The mind a wandering hare
The heart the harrowing lightness.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2009
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