Olives, Bread, Honey, and Salt

The lanes are littered with the bodies of bees. 
A torrent took them, swarming in branches 
just as the white buds loosened their hearts 
of pale yellow powder. Each body is a lover: 
the one with skin blank as pages; the one 
so moved by the pulse ticking in your throat; 
the one who took your lips in his teeth 
and wouldn’t let go; the one who turned 
from you and lay there like a carcass. If we were 
made to be whole, we wouldn’t be so lost 
to each offering of tenderness and a story. 
Therefore our greatest longing is our home. 
There is always the one bee that circles and circles, 
twitching its sodden wings. 







All poems are from Rough Honey (American Poetry Review/Copper
Canyon Press, 2010).

© Copyright, Melissa Stein.
All rights reserved.