Poem #12: Gothic Honey

There is never enough sweetness on the tongues of

weapons

They walk around

march around

skip around

as if their bitterness

won’t kill them one day

I am gothic honey

poured in the mouths of fighters

The bitterness in my veins cannot be diluted

The bitterness in my eyes cannot be diluted

But I am mostly sweet

mostly, I am poured on top of regret and hasty decisions

My breasts are kept in a special jar

gold leaf is flecked across my neck - so the weapons won’t feel bad when they drizzle me

“Where are you from?” I am often asked

but gothic honey does not answer questions

by man

You were not meant to understand me

But you can spill me

you can admire my sweetness laced with gentle poison

and you will be better for it