Pack me in your suitcase, let me fly without the weight of honey stuck on my wings. I got a wing stuck in my eye once, and it stayed there for years. There was a bee in my ear, fuzzy and warm–I screamed, but no one saw, only the yellow-belled daffodils.
He couldn’t stop looking in the mirror, or drinking honey dew tea. And I just want to love the whole world, every footprint and every piece of popcorn-kernel sand. Help me see the waterfalls in everyday. Help me look at the walking-man sign as one of us.
