I’m not just an ant with an antennae
That has some honey on it’s tip
I’m a commandeering army
Of secrets pheromones,
Containing mentions of your lips,
Memes and memory clips,
And if the night is long and tearful,
When it comes to mother’s tongue
We have one,

And it is rolling forever forward
In a never ending great Italian discourse
It becomes an obvious discovery,
As in discussing things like love,
Just remember our last kiss,

And the moon…

Whom we both love… now…

Come on….

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