An Idllyic Scheme

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Bottles of Joy were scattered on her marble floor. Her boy’s the lovliest and merriest ever seen in Paris.
His tousled mouse brown hair rests like a halo round his permanently¬† blushed cheeks. You haven’t you seen lashes as long as his since Joseph and the temptress’s slit wrists. A congenial kohl marks the rim of his hazel eyes. Hazel, the Parisian peach of this phebe’s¬† dormant eyes, looked on, her apple red lips parted in admiration of the scene before her. Her smile surpassed Sahara’s sun, her cheek hollows were deeper than a ruddy peach whose seed had been plucked. If the boy had been awake, he would be trying at fitting his thumb( still covered in chocolatefrom¬† last night’s fondue fountain) into the dimple.

Can you see the joy of the young two?
Can you feel Joseph’s likeness smiling against your cheek.

P.S. -The lovers will dance on silver roads when they awake.

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