Daisy Fresh Girl*
he was always trying to catch something sweet perhaps a drizzle of honey from the hive of bees that hangs from the tree in your mother’s garden
he claims to have lost his wit in the dip of your thigh.
to you, this honey tastes more like the sting than the antidote, like a slow poison an unparalleled violence
*Phrase taken from Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita