Beware the Hydrangeas

Lost in the hydrangeas

nodding wetly from summer rain

it’s impossible to inhale anything

but sweet purple.

I had wanted to be here

in the thick greenness

petals like tiny colored thumbs

but sugar air brings bees.

Whirring low and angry

heaven b l u r s to yellowblack

thorned bodies reclaiming

their periwinkle homeland.

In this gummy heat

I’ve exposed my limbs

for branches and beestings

the smell of flowers stings my throat.

Skin shredded raw and heart

palpable I grab fistfuls

of dirt smeared like warpaint

and       run.

My crumbling wood porch

sops up bloodstains and tears

Momma clucks through the screen

that I shouldn’t track mud in the house.