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Tags: erotic
As I compose, sitting in my think tank,
The well of my ink formulates prose.

The feathered quill of my cuckoo scribes,
Caw of the bellowing bird.

Raising the cock, my pendulum stick,
The methadone throbs words. 

Pricking the pen upon the parchment,
Dew of my penis slides it's ooze. 

On flesh, the poetic beast kiss,
The rising of thundering thighs.

Portal of cunt, entering infinity, 
The succubus chills my taper.

As I compose, the flame froze,
On night of the erotic prose.
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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