Poezja

Like a bee, 
you wanted to land― 
on the snapdragon’s, 
curved lip. 
 
Light years away― 
a mouth gapes open; 
you will not, 
walk in. 
 
A wrenching search, 
for a home, where 
you will not find 
the violence. 
 
A wax palace, you 
are invited to live in. 
The dummies, abound, 
without backbones.