Field Agent

[dreamling]

dipping into ecstasy
like honey,
dripping from fresh comb
thoughts of you buzz about me,
pollen laden bees returning,
a trip to the fields

sweet of smell, lofty of ideals,
so amazing as to thwart the very laws of nature

Perhaps I am your very little Queen
and you my slave,
to toil, and toil, and toil

yet also I am bound to you
trapped,
by nectar you posses,
intoxicating mix,
musk and man.