• Beatrice Iker

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


Recent Posts

See All

i would never tell you to forget your wounds stardust is many things but it is not unwounded we are not storyless, challengeless, painless we are stumbling miracles, and lonely in crowds, we are popul

As children, we were cursed beneath the oak tree off Dandridge Avenue we forgot our names & everyone else forgot them too Our mothers held us firm, fierce, fast in their trembling arms but their tongu

The handcuffs are tight - tighter than they oughta be. “You’re a criminal,” I’m accused, viciously, on the other side of the plastic barrier. “Your lies are legendary; your hoodoo cannot be