God of gas station bathrooms
And of girls held hostage
Inside their own bedrooms -
Girls driven in the ambulance
Of their mother's car
To the nearest lockdown.
Half-girls turned tom-
Boys turned zombie,
Drool, beauty-child. And memory
That warm slop of honey,
Seeping. No way to stop it
and its gorgeous hurricane of bees.
- Cynthia Cruz
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