名人诗歌|Aprilis from Roman Year

lights scrolls across an unmade bed，

we were setting out for Aries

in paper planes （white dwarf stars

bright in a wilderness of wish scatter

white feathers among me， fistfuls

of light）： bees busied themselves

with the seen， moment's

multiple tasks， for the pollen， honey

in the blood， bees would drown

each day： from a thicket of nos

to one sepaled blossoming， all

in an afternoon

you thought of bees as summer