SCHOLARSHIP

I swell through my shirt
as I am a nest of allergies.

The bees bite my throat and die,
and I humble-brag.
I pretend not to gloat.
I survive it all.

I swell through my shirt
with the venom of said knowledge:
the honey that I steal.

Though I pretend to be wise,
I had stuffed the honeycomb into my vise.
I pretend to eat bees,
but during my contemplation, they eat me.

I disturb, but I don’t run.
I sit there and memorize…
the honey their tails memorize me.

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