Bee stung lips
with honey drips
but I am lost
just your voice remains.
Is the sky stained with dirty clouds,
or are our circumstances beautiful?
Here’s a ritual
I pray to receive wisdom
I need something to lean upon
I need it but it often falls off our lips
sometimes too much.
I drift off to the sound of my own breath
sinking deeply bereft,
but ultimately it must be my decision to love myself
and you from afar
like the sun and star.