Will you take what’s left of me?

By Rae Rozman

When the bees have come home

and made their nests in your ribcage

sectioning out perfect hexagons

of glass blown bone

I will ask the setting sun 

to drop golden light through unsteady ventricles

to pour summer like hourglass sands

through thinning fingers

When the bees have come home

whispering tentatively that it is almost winter

I will ask them to delay their slumber

just a little while longer

Rae Rozman is a middle school counselor in Austin, Texas. Her poetry, which often explores themes of queer love (romantic and platonic), loss, and education, has been published in several literary magazines and anthologies. An avid bookworm, you can often find her curled up in the corner with a novel. For poems, book reviews, and pictures of her two adorable rescue bunnies, you can find her on Instagram @mistress_of_mnemosyne

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