Queen, you are fathomed

Exalted life

not because you know
slavish attention
or sit

bathed in the royal jellies
and rarer distillates

nor because it commences
backlit all

by droning buzz and the mellow

scent of lilac

but for your ignorance of desire

for your cloistering, Liege

Never wondering
what tastes abound
in distant clusters

so rich is your interior
your fecundity

your multiple dark imaginings

Never saying
as I do
Why and again Why

Never saying
as I do
to the world of surrounding combs

Do you think I may someday escape