regardless
of who you are.
it matters little that you mean
them no harm.
you will not touch
a single one,
you will leave the honey,
the cave like hive alone.
but they don't care. you've
gotten too close.
and as you rub the new welt
upon your arm.
scratching at
the itch of a sting,
the bee flies off to die.
as we all do so often
for a queen.
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