Sometimes, A Pun

Grounded:

The staccato slap
of a door
my only answer. 

I opened a book
I wasn't reading,
the radio in its secret drawer 

chirped verboten dreams,
a bee whirling
in the hive of my heart. 

I was the stuff of honey,
the flower flattened
by rain. My name was mangled. 

See the doorway
edged in light? I proved light
by shadows. 

I spelled myself.
Love, like a library book,
changed hands. 

Deborah Tall.