MELITA
The honeybee youth glanced at the writing, understanding the enthusiasm and excitement through the legible tethers, embarking back along a smile, before handing over the piece of branch. It wiggled and spun, danced and maneuvered, almost as if it yearned to escape or continue waltzing.As for the other notations, Melita had already clambered back down along the embankment and line separating the canals from the roads. Legs dangling, relaxed and content, the girl’s head tilted vaguely – she’d offered to assist before, but other than the writing utensil and the paper, the uncertainty made its way between her brows, kneading a deepening furrow. “I can try. What do you need?”
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
