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Tags: erotic
My disbelievers are one's, 
That don't understand.
True sensuality,
Thinking it evil.

For they are misled,
Thinking I am conniving, 
By scribing my soul.
Not knowing the side of me.

That darkness is erotica,
Between pages and lines.
Created to stir,
Seekers of pleasures. 

I the Sandman,
The poet of Aberdeen.
My ink swilling,
Dripping like cum. 

Craving the beauty,
Of the flesh.
My cock shadows,
Those lonely for desire.

Visiting you at dusk,
Beneath your bed lamp.
Blinking fornication,
Spreading your thighs .

Your lips salivating,
Now sand in your eyes. 
Nectar in rhymes,
Awaiting good times. 
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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