The Honeybee
How dare you lay claim to what is mine?
Steal my children and call them yours. Take them
They were bastards anyway. Your radiant face and silky hair make me tremble with envy and spite you with pains. Be a maiden, mother, or crone but I will be your goddess because black and yellow make the honeybee. After all, how I adore the sweet untouched flowers in your twists.