My darling, often when you set and think
Of things that seem to kind of bother you,
You put your pencil in your mouth and chew
Around the wood, and let your sweet teeth sink
Down in it till it's all marked up and split,
And yesterday I seen you when you threw
A stub away that you'd bit up; it flew
Behind the bookcase, where I gobbled it.
I put it in my mouth, the way you'd done,
And I could feel the little holes you made —
The places where your teeth sunk in — I laid
My tongue tight up against them, every one,
And shut my eyes, and then you seemed to be
There with your lips on mine and kissin’ me.