Come bees, and sting.
Remind me of anything but him.
Come and buzz and pout
Fly about and worry me
While I try to see
What's written on this ancient
Earthen urn from Greece.
The translation comes to me piece by piece,
But I forget my place
When tears stream down my face
And my skin welts--
Two stripes for any one time I felt good.
I really should go in,
Call it a day,
Pull the screen door shut
And say enough,
But I'm so tough,
And have learned so well
To tolerate hell--
It's icy fingers
And burning stingers.
But I'd just really like to know
What this perfect Adonis said here
Before he gave that discus such a throw.

-jenn