Each queendom a city-state
perfect in every detail:
the broad colonnades
running through nectar gardens
that feed the citizens' senses
as much as their bodies;
the tiered, hexagonal dormitories
where sister sleeps beside sister;
the marbled dance halls,
the golden palace.

Each worker-citizen equal
to her thousand sisters,
each sharing each other's joys,
each thinking for herself
but always in agreement.
Their ideas communicated
through the precise placement
of wings and antennae;
the language of their souls
written in dance.

At the center, the queen.
The dark equations of inheritance
permit her no pity
for the haploid drones
who die in mating her,
falling from paradise.

(First published in Star*Line.)

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