Come my Middle East, drink my soul
with your mouth buried deep
in the almond desire of our kisses.
Move your body down the chill
of my skin that yearns and aches
for the touch of the sirocco
Foreigners send agents, surveillance
to photograph your land,
spy on your peoples,
strategize against your national defenses,
map the resources under your earth,
determine profits to be taken
from you and your children,
foment unrest in your streets,
destroy your culture.
This morning
after uttering my usual curses
to buzzers and digital readouts
after plugging out the light
with a pillow
Bees are drawn to the
Center of things
It is Nature’s way
To bring them in close to her
Body
And hold them there
Humming in place.