Sindio Forgotten

Poetry & Prose March 15, 2017

You never made sense to me, honeybee. I never knew you. I  met you once and I saw you die. I greeted your death with absolute pleasure.

You left your dying words in my skin. Although I lived for such a time in your short life you made me a novice. You left your sting and for seven years it was my own plight. I saw nothing of your selfless sacrifice. For twenty-two years I knew so little.

Print by Daido Moriyama Untitled

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