honey and sting

In the lore of an ancient land,
tonight is the birthday of the world.
Night, not day,
because all new things are birthed in darkness.
How else would we see their light?

We smear our mouths with honey,
a far older language of scent and touch and taste.
The sticky sweetness of a future imagined happiness.
In this, morality steps aside
for the body's feast,
and judgment is surrendered
to joy.