Nothing we share can be traced
Back to us.
You'll find no paper,
And would be only wasting your money
On a detective.
But go ahead, try.
Follow the wind trail of honey
And our particularities
As we are still unknown to one another
And would find your questions
Decadent.
We have basic palates,
And though unknown
Are not unknown to all we have selected
On the tongues.
Abigail
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