If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam— And noon should burn— As it has usual done— If Birds should build as early And Bees as bustling go— One might depart at option From enterprise below! ’Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand When we with Daisies lie— That Commerce will continue— And Trades as briskly fly— It makes the parting tranquil And keeps the soul serene— That gentlemen so sprightly Conduct the pleasing scene!
the paper feels jilted the pen seems to have abandoned him he misses her tickling caress she was always an adulteress frolicking with the fingers that held her
paper, pen , fingers they were an exciting *******
if only he knew the pen weeps her inky tears she has lost both her lovers- the paper lies too far off, too distant in her sorrow she is spent unable to touch him she was first and foremost always his the fingers were just a necessary flirtation but now even the fingers have found more fertile ground?
Meanwhile the fingers come in ecstatic betrayal sexting with the keyboard wham bam thank you ma’m and its done
The more her canine teeth, dip deeper, on his shoulder, on crossing the threshold of pleasure, the more he gets elated; then, a doubt raises its head and whispers,*"just being plain dutiful, or was it, like she felt, really beautiful?"