Stung

A handsome young honeybee Landed on my arm Smooth and stylish In his tailored pollen pants Striped polo And flashing a charming smile.

May I sting you? He politely asked.

I shook my head I have been stung by your kind before.

He crunched his abs So his stinger grazed my skin I’m different.

I looked towards his advances But if you sting me You will die.

He scoffed at the thought.

You will die. I continued Your stinger will get stuck And you will rip apart.

That’s only if I leave you.

And what about your queen?

She has a hive full of followers He leaned into me harder I will not be missed.

I wanted to trust him Despite his shifty beady eyes And cocky humming He sensed my hesitation And pressed further in.

We will be together forever I said As I closed my eyes And gave myself to him.

With a pinch of pain He stung me.

But then I felt him Quickly pull out With a gleeful laugh He stung my body again. And again. And again.

You bastard! I screamed in agony.

But before I could confront him

He threw on his

Yellowjacket

And flew away.