(no subject)

[apiphile]

it's not even april yet

Liquid honey in my kitchen forms crystals in the cold.
Long ago I learnt my prescence stretches tolerance and must be portioned sparingly.
A spoonful entering hot water, thick and gritty.
Leaving every party early, I am both hero and villain, sparing revellers from the horror of me.
The crystals dissolve and sweeten the waiting tea.
My excuses are a smokescreen; I have no imminent rendezvous;
I'm just trying to save my image in the eyes of you.