Poetry Series: Honey-Nectar

Photo by Ray Max

Photo by Ray Max

 

Honey-nectar
by
Mel Karner

I’m letting the hair grow back up to my naval.
It’s thickening like honey-nectar out the sides
Of my mouth. It’s summer in my head and
I’m dripping with satisfaction as I suck on a
Bowl of fruit, putting my sticky fingers deep
Into my mouth. I extract the honey-nectar residue
And keep it on my tongue for later. My hair keeps
Me warm from the cold winds and mean boys.
A peach is just a nectarine with hair to protect
Itself from bugs. Bugs don’t like to be tickled
By hair, and neither do boys. Honey-nectar drips
Down my nakedness. Down my long neck and
Sharp collars, past my fresh and bloody nipple
Piercings. In and out of my ribs, over the stomach,
It finds home in my belly button. I’m tarried with
Sweet honey-nectar, now. I grin as the hair grows
into my nude, naked as I see myself. Suckle this
honey-nectar from me, I’m exquisite.

MacKenzie Peck