Butterbee

We softened what once could bite. Now it purrs, almost tame.But the shine in its eyes says otherwise, the story isn’t over.

We keep guessing at meaning, pretending the map explains the storm.But the best things never ask permission.

They just arrive, uncaptioned.

Uncertainty hums; low, delicious, and full of promise. You can listen or look away, it changes nothing.

Either way, something has started moving. Let the games begin.