THEY'RE. FUCKING. EVERYWHERE.

My anus is full of bees.

The cookie jar is full of bees. The dog is full of bees. The bees are full of bees.

The bees swarmed down and flew away with the empty husk that was once my body. All of existence is bees. Bees are all of us. Bees.

I dreamed of bees. I awoke to bees. There are too many bees. Life is made of bees. Why are there so many bees?

Two crown tattoos were the only evidence the government presented in Andry’s asylum case before he was sent to a Salvadoran prison.

Immigration authorities suspected the tattoo was gang-related, but his lawyer says his parents’ names are below the crowns, and they honor his mom and dad.

So. Many. Bees.