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Painter's Moon

Tags: erotic
I am not so dark
that I am indifferent.
I write of poetic dust
and hanging moss. 

Under a painter's moon 
like Cimmerian prose,
composing lust
as my penis rises.
Abiding my sensuality.

Deep forgiveness I seek,
if I offended ones I desire.
My erotic soul I uphold.
Scrolling on parchment,
fornication's fire.

The Sandman cometh, 
on sonnets and psalms.
As you count your blessings,
I caress your dreams,
under a painter's moon.

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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