I HOPE IT STINGS
A Poem.
“I HOPE IT STINGS”
By Ramona Moth
I hope it stings when you see through honey-glazed eyes, just far enough to swat what you could have clutched. Velvet-slick, iridescent exoskeleton, shielding something rarer beneath. Something worth pinning on glass. I hope it stings when it cracks, fractures webbing through amber mold. Trapped aching. Trapped angry. Emptied into a hollow husk, silk spun from something soft, left gooey, viscous, unmetamorphosed.
Came for the cassette, stayed for the poem.
I'd still love this poem if it was a bug, that's for sure.
The choice of words and the way you crafted this piece? Masterful. The use of "honey" in the first stanza is so fitting as this one drips in smooth and sweet, reading like dripping honey. Juxtaposed with the meaning of the poem, that really does sting, and in the best way. Great read. Killed it.