Your bees, your bees, your bees.
A sinuously damp, yet whisperlike, caress.
You are happy. Oh yes, you are that. You are by no means incontent.
But this is no Gasthaus, the mire you have stumbled into.
My bees ...
The gauss is the unit of magnetic flux density B and the equivalent of esu/cm^2.
You are the unit of your foolishness. It is a foolishness borne from love, that most belovedly mortal of foibles, that brought you here. Here, to this place.
And because you are foolish, even now ... especially now ... you are not averse to this.
Do they comprehend? They must. They are you. And even in this ignominious ingress, you are together.
In the gegenschein of dusk, you are as you are.
Not even a geiger counter could measure the fecund fervency of your feelings, now.
You close your eyes. You think only of ...