Hello, Mrs. Honeybee,
how are you today?
My soul is heavy,
my body is *****,
and my mind is wandering away from me.

These summer days,
always slip away
filled with scraped knees,
and honeybees,
jeans stained dark with blood.

Goodbye, Mrs. Honeybee,
your summer days are gone,
and I never ever got to say
goodbye.

I first saw her at a party
Skin Tight jeans and Farrah's hair
She glanced and smiled in my direction
Trouble's brewing and it ain't fair

I knew right then I had to have her
Couldn't get her off my mind
I'd take her home and I would show her
A love of the most carnal kind

Where there's smoke there's always fire
Don't be fooled between love and lust
You've got to control your hearts desire
'Cause the fires hot and you'll end up dust

Working late without no distraction
The new secretary walked on in
I knew right then that I had to have her
My mind was thinking of only sin

She had a ring upon her finger
I didn't care, I had to know
She was selling and I was buying
I had some wild seed to sow

Where there's smoke there's always fire
Don't be fooled between love and lust
You've got to control your hearts desire
'Cause the fires hot and you'll end up dust

Running practice for all the kids
Getting sweaty with soccer moms
There was one standing there right beside me
I had to have her...and get me some

I made a move and she responded
Flipped me right onto my back
I thought here she comes, it's gonna happen
Then she kicked me in the sack

Where there's smoke there's always fire
Don't be fooled between love and lust
You've got to control your hearts desire
'Cause the fires hot and you'll end up dust

won’t you keep my photograph in the pocket of your ripped jeans, tucked in tight and close so you can always hold me?

You remind me of my favorite pair of old blue jeans.

I wanted to wear them every single second, just like I wanted to be with you.

But one day..

one day, they stopped firing me
and
I had to say goodbye.

I drink in moonlight
like the lemonade hours of sun
that leak in through
broken windowpanes
wasted hours
like honey droplets of time
sink in bones and tint them yellow.
Hands so big they could swallow me whole
wrap around my waist
and lick swollen elbows with fire.
Rotted fruit with
sickly sweet perfume
penetrate my
memories
and imaginary kisses.
I used to think I liked melodic voices
and soft leather jackets
winks like untruthful sweet medicine
melancholic lies and performances.
Conversations stretch like
curly cords of telephones
glowing screens wash rooms
with blue light
and sink in mattresses for future dreams
Jeans laced with smoke
and signals
questions and confusion
the sound of my heels on pavement
all little love songs
singing your name.

We come from the same gene pool,
but don't you dare tell me
that we can wear the same jeans,
because you couldn't hold them up.
You wouldn't be able to keep them in place,
to hoist up the weight of the world
that makes them so heavy.
Your size zero waist and thighs
couldn't handle the pressure,
couldn't handle the qualities
of life size pants.
Not 12 size pants.
Life size pants.
My whole life fits into the stretched out fabric,
the too tight button,
the zipper that struggles to crawl up its track.
These pants have seen days where I could slide in
and days where the squeeze was so tight
that I just gave up,
even when giving up shouldn't have been an option.
Holes have been torn,
rips have been stretched,
and yours have been fashioned to look that way.
Do not pretend that we could switch jeans
and be perfectly fine,
because you would be swimming,
and I would be missing.