“Sometimes I’d get mad because things didn’t work out so well, I’d spoil a flapjack, or slip in the snowfield while getting water, or one time my shovel went sailing down into the gorge, and I’d be so mad I’d want to bite the mountaintops and would come in the shack and kick the cupboard and hurt my toe. But let the mind beware, though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.”
“Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.”
“Though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are still pretty glorious. ”
“I’d kiss you over and over because I love the taste of you, but I’d have to play with those pretty, pretty breasts. I’d suck and lick and maybe even bite a little. You don’t mind teeth, do you, Grace?”
“Once again, I found myself on the edge looking down, wondering when I’d get so close that I’d fall. Or maybe I’d just jump.”
“I’d Poe’s nude for the approval of a dead poet. No names come to mind, but I’m sure there must be one I’d get naked for.”