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Click hereThe postman did not carry me; I clung
to the wing of a night bird
over the greening gray,
skating over state lines
and medians,
over treetops, through branches
diving down and down bee
lining your driveway.
Here the segue to interior
(skip the sofa)
where we slid into one another--
honey into beeswax.
Especially like the first three strophes where you make the reader feel the flight.
that's your fault with the gorgeous night-flight description. clever, the bee/lining and that honey/wax smoothsoothing into one another. very ... malleable!