{ the sweetest bee makes the thickest honey. }

Matthew Corey

Like its protagonist, a soon-to-be ex-lover, this poem walks the gauzy line between pessimistic longing and tightly controlled anger with affectless precision. The wryly homicidal narrator dissects his surroundings with a razor-bladed need to get under the dumb surface of things, then bemusedly steps back when the red begins to show.