A quandary, a quandary:

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Hermits would rather write,

Far into the night,

And watch their words take flight.

And pickled men will lose the fight,

When they see that she won’t bite,

She wants their sex, But that’s not right!

Unless she slaves for them in the daylight,

Dragging up their brats,

With all of her might,

So stick to writing on this night!

she reads his words again before saying yes to herself and then falling to sleep

 

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