Mining Bees - Andrena Astragali by Abigail Pearson

I let the bee dig into my corpse, spotted and graying beneath the willow tree. I let the bee make a home in me, since I had never been able to,

Making home or making love just to me

She, the bee in me

Made herself a nest, alongside my clavicle. Mixing pollen in with moss that hung from my spine, and the dirt that covered my bones. She made herself a space. Safe.

The bee and me. The bee and I. We incubated life. We.

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Abigail Pearson is a 23-year-old queer writer of novels and poetry. She has a black cat that she loves to cuddle with as she drinks tea and reads Dostoyevsky. Abigail has recently published a poetry collection titled A Mad Woman’s Voice and she has been published in Moonchild Magazine, The Slag Review and Cease, Cows. She resides in Eugene, OR. You can find her on twitter @whimsywriter3

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