May Honey

How easy it is to love you -
in other words, to seal my lips
so that the worker bees
can't leave their tender sting
in my stomach.
To love you means to protect you
from my kiss.
How easy it is to love you -
in each pore of my skin;
to hatch the warm chrysalis
in each cell of the honeycomb.
Touch, smell, memory, habit, familiarity -
to give wings to them all,
to give you the right to be with another.
How easy it is to love you -
to seal the mouth
of the sexless bees each morning
(those virgin muses)
to block with dust and dew
the opening of my beehive.
For me to love you,
you must stay at a distance,
protected from me -
easy as burying gold in the ground.
But honey is here without any reason.
And so are you.