Honey. Trapped.
Strawberries that bleed into cream
Like thorns that are left behind in the flesh
Leaves that turned into thorns
Flower petals that became spikes
‘Like being kissed to death by a butterfly,’ she said, he thought
When the red seeps into the white
Slowly
Gently
Insidiously
Ah, then, then, you know that there’s no escape
No chance to run and hide
Because what’s happening to you
Is so welcome and such a relief
And a release
like wings trapped in amber for eternity.
But do you die?
Or get new wings
Are you born again, resurrected?
Or will that red, your life blood
Seeping into the seeming innocence of the cream
Suck you in
Draw you in
And you, willingly, ecstatically give in
Or will the cream that drinks your blood
Gift you new wings
In return for the blood it has sucked out
Of the veins that run with them.
That, only time will tell,
And perhaps destiny has an answer to that,
That we, mercifully, do not know.
