I dreamt of bees last night, like curious stars filling my sky.
They danced, those randy fire twirlers, and blocked my light with their own exuberance. Ten thousand bees hurled themselves like unshackled inmates from the hive into the sky above, blue and capacious.
Oblivious to me, they tumbled and bounced and chattered, colliding after some minutes into a mass of vibrating heat.
Now, they hang heavy from a single, dry twig. While I stand motionless as in a pool of warm mud.