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The personality of a stinging bumblebee,
This tongue defies gravity.

Mind the words,
Mustn't make them feel threatened.

Talking too much -
Too often our conversation's death sentence.

See, here I go again!

These parables in my throat,
Plead for ice-water
There is a special kind of Hell for untold stories.

I'd offer you apologies,
But that would turn into ten-million other stories
Probably about how I've always been made to apologize
For the gymnasts that are my thoughts.

They only know summersaults and headstands.
And all I wanted to say was,
Yeah, I hear you. I understand.


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