A Dread Attar

Dear Readers, 

Each poem takes many delicious yet sometimes vexing hours;
today I introduce a paying subscribers tier to Of Flightless Doves for readers who would like to read more poems in exchange for monthly or yearly patronage. 

If you remain a free-subscriber you will receive no less than what you have been receiving in the last few weeks: one poem and three album recommendations. However, I will vary the post timing that you may have been acquainted with in previous weeks. 

Trying a paid subscription is a way to support my aspiring artistry. If you are not able to make a paid subscription at this time and would like to receive the same poems as paying subscribers, consider sending two referral links to new readers to receive a one-month comp for the paying subscribers tier. 

I appreciate critical comments on my poetry——what you respond to, what you question——which you may leave respectfully in the comments section. 
I don't witness the work I have published as irrevocable from the small public domain I am sharing in, so it is possible that if I am susceptible to your comment then I might inaugurate it in a future draft.

I appreciate what support you may give and hope you inhabit 
"A Dread Attar."

Considerately, 

Ethan Koss-Smith  

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At intervals I fear this love and poetry once subsided 
will not resume, sometimes I fear to dote the Dread Attar.

Such a stench of beauty wilted by that theft which is succor: 
of Cornacae, of Mallows, of Syringa fruit plundered.  

Yet a note from this fructose 
convinces me to yearn cruel life 

as I gorge apiary honey by the black sepal
for one more day crop hives for the propolis and shave 

wax separate from Miel, gashes' antiseptic,
what sting-less consent flowers to treasure.

At a Spring's blossoming swell, 
the Bees concocting from anthers

transmute what clings by flit and retch 
joys gesture at making