We were two imperfect people in an imperfect world - a drunken sot and a bee bearding girl.
A strict sideshow code had postponed our romance and yet I persisted in pursuing this exotic queen who made me weak in the knees with her Africanized killer bees.
I was a circus accountant subsisting on cans of black eyed peas and hidden fees - my caste somewhere between dancing bears and Siamese pairs in a social system that was organized top-down from ringmaster to hungover clowns.
I was an unlikely lothario but our love came to fruition in those big top days of exploited dwarves and swallowed swords. She is long since gone but I will always be hexed by that beautiful girl and her flying insects.