I walk into the sealed teeth
That encase the path to the hive,
Surrounded by untilled heath.
Down the gullet slowly, dive
Into other similar situations en masse.
Shuffle to tables, uniformed drones supervise.
Waiting for you, an elderly man passes.
He turns, and age melts as he sits
In front of me, the man who rolled with me in the grass.
Locked in the hive, missed my first kiss.
Talk covers what transpired in the time
Since he accepted this hand, a life of fits.
Around our piece of bliss, others chat in mime.
Expressing similar sentiment, linked only by faults.
Quaked into reality, the drone says, "Time."
My image covered again in age, like a bank vault
Swung closed around him. Reminded of our place
Within the hive, we part… I taste salt.
Regurgitated out, I look in the mirror at my face,
My eyes wear time like wreaths.
I drive back to my hive, 800 miles from this place.