heart made of bees

by Madi Haab

there: in the hollow
concrete medulla
of the city skeleton

neonics addled
a bee, feeble wings
beating the sidewalk

I palm and tuck it
behind my brittle ribs
a mise en abyme

of weary workers
I find another
and another

(and another)

a defibrillator
of cellophane wings
I, too, buzz again

my atria
become a hive
an asylum

wildflowers grow between
my bones; I drip honey
like molten gold

my honeycomb heart
teems with thorns and flares
bright warning yellow

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ABOUT THE CREATOR

Madi Haab (she/her) is a queer and neurodivergent writer of Moroccan descent from Tiohtià:ke/Montréal. She draws inspiration from her mixed cultural heritage and identities to explore the liminal and interstitial through speculative fiction and poetry. Her work has appeared in Augur Magazine, Haven Speculative, Brins d’éternité and more. When not writing, she dabbles in art and singing, and likes video games and afternoon naps a little too much.

Website: http://madihaab.com/

Bluesky: @madihaab.com

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