the bee hive

like a bee
hive struck
with a long
stick
her words
pour out and
out in all
directions.
you listen
and try to
connect the
buzzing dots
hoping soon
that a point
is made, to
understand
the swarm of
thoughts
that comes in
waves
and waves,
but either way
it's fine.
she has no
stingers, she's
always kind.