The cells of our lives, and the spaces. Sometimes it is what is in those spaces which count the most. Spaces have all the potential to be. The open mouth of a lover: words either sweet or stinging, but still providing a hook, something to hold on to. Words we can go back to, loaded and ready to be sorted into place. And most importantly, we all have our queens.


The syrupy cells,

Raised walls

Angled and filled

Your mouth, full


And stinging

I hear the buzz,

The dance,

The vibrations of light and


Shadowed by the ebbing

Of latticed tongue


Gossamer strong

Torn words,

Sweet words,

Pulsed out in the thrum

I lay back,

Barbed joy in

Your legs, eyes,



Thick, sticky

Sibilant voice:

Apis strung




Amber R Walker, Hull, Creative Writer, Bookmaker, Lover of art

One thought on “Hives

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