Hannah Lipper '15
I do not care if all you are is
the vomit of bees – I love you all the same.
I don’t mind the way you cling to me – because of a
power complex or my childhood.
I don’t mind the way
you glow, even without a sticky
bun in the oven
I’ve watched you glide into necessity like gold
beaten to a pulp within sweet juice.
you are sour at times when mixed with whole wheat
But I like that side to you.
And when you melt atop my skin
I never wash you away.
I don’t mind that you have no love to give me
because I find some way to take it.
I tap trees to find you and I never disturb
the loggers or the bees.
I squeeze out the last drops of summer
and things are soon reborn.
I loosen the belt of my pants
to make room for
what you reap.