Monday 24 April 2017


once there was a boy named bee 
upon my knee

softly telling me how rivers
did not reach the sea in the year 
twenty twenty three

some were black others blue
in twenty twenty two
and none could you wash your
self in

his eyelashes fluttered 
feeling me shudder
i could tell 
he honestly knew 

he unbuttoned my collar 
i cried and hollered and then he promised 
just breathe

then rolled up our sleeves so carefully
we could see those cuts on
our arms

with one finger 
he crossed my lips
tenderly looking into my eyes

we existed quietly there
until about quarter past one
bee upon my knee
and me

i wondered if all of the darkness
 he shared


yet i knew our


- KatYa, 2017

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