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Poem by Rue // Photograph by Diana Spatariu

Poem by Rue // Photograph by Diana Spatariu

I will always go back to the honey tree

The glistening, golden liquid

Sweet, seductive



I will always scrape my knees going back to the honey tree

Get cuts and bruises

And stings from bees


You say I put up a wall

Well, my dear, you put up the whole fucking Spanish Armada

And what for?

Is your honey so sweet?


Or does this single soldier pose such a threat that you need fires and crossbows to keep me at



Well, here’s the thing:

I will always go back to the honey tree because I like the taste of honey

But do not give me a comb from your hive if all you are going to do is let the bees whither and


Do not bring me flowers unless you want to watch me leave them out in the sun to dry

Because I am not going to ritualize every morning

By changing the water in a vase

For a beekeeper

Who in a year’s time will probably stop using my name


But until then I will always go back to the honey tree

Because despite all the scrapes, bruises, and broken bones,

I know it’s there for me


This doesn’t mean

I won’t be sad

I will be

Because I know with every drop of your honey

It may be the last time I taste that sweetness on my tongue

On my lips


Because soon you’ll tell me the hour is getting late

I’m not some character from a Cinderella story

I don’t turn into a pumpkin with the disappearance of the moon

When the sun comes up I’m still the same person you touched

The same person you kissed

The same person you pressed your lips to when you said, “wait”


And you and your honey?

Still sweet as ever


And now a pause;

For, I could put down all the things you said to me here,

But I’ve a feeling you wouldn’t want the world to know

all the sweet nothings you put in my ear.


Rue is an avid contemplator of the universe and writer of many forms. Born and raised in British Columbia, Canada, she has recently taken an airplane halfway across the world to study English literature and creative writing at the University of Brighton. When she grows up she hopes to become Allen Ginsberg. Maybe minus the beard. For the occasional clever, but sad one-lined poem you can follow her on Instagram: @ruethename.

Diana Spatariu

Diana Spatariu is 23 years old. She lives and studies medicine in Constanta, Romania. Follow her on Flickr.

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