Dreamcrashers bookcover



The honey bee of myth, of eloquence, sense,
immortality. Neither worker nor drone, I aspire

to be queen. My colony, my predictions, my
swarm, to be open to drones and dreams, to be

unmoved by death. The prick of beauty and power:
oh, the waggle dance, the round dance, all for

my continued life. You, however, seem to be
a diploid, one who escaped the fate of

ritual murder. Despite your sex, you aspire to be
a queenly king. So we shall fight for it—sting  and

sting unto death. And I shall triumph. My hive,
my honey, Honey. The future is mine.



 (DREAMCRASHERS. Susan Terris, Conflux Press, 2016)

Thanks to Arts & Letters in which this poem first appeared.