I noticed a yellowjacket flying around my coffee cup
as if it were a flower she wanted to kiss,
then wondered where her delicate hum went.
Tonguing anything hard and round in your coffee
will make one curious—spit and search for the invader.

I wonder, was it the piping hot or the puddle brown
that pulled her in, fouled her flight forever.
Poor dear, her stinging thing curled under,
wings folded like the arms of a dead civil war soldier.
Maybe caffeine buzzed her plain, bare heart to bursting.

Yes! Burst my heart. What a way to go!
Lay me out, fixed in sepia,
let me dance high on the edge of your cup,
kiss your dark brown depths—
slip vibrating all the way under.

My little soldier will awaken and die
in your mouth over and over
but never sting you
no matter how often you spit
or swallow me whole.