Stubborn Life

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sweet boy, the hive came crashing down today | cracked open on the driveway | sweet boy, the bee queen fled here from the smoke | the day i burned the roses | i dreamed i gave her new wings for her flight | the once she owned just didn't fit right | sweet boy, there is this stubborn life | cracking me open like the bee hive | somewhere somewhere somewhere inside | sweet boy, if you ever made me cry, | it was from all the tender things you've said | sleep tight, and when you wake up again | it is my time to go to bed | like every every every night, okay? ||
"That which triggers off an affect, that which effectuates a power to be affected, is called a signal: the web stirs, the scalp creases, a little skin is bared. Nothing but a few signs like stars in an immense black night. Spider-becoming, flea-becoming, tick-becoming, an unknown, resilient, obscure, stubborn life." (Dialogues, 61)