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Scribblings Of My Prose

Tags: erotica
When the first of dewdrops fall,
how do I take adversity.
Many people deny,
the scribblings of my prose. 

With this script I share,
the humbleness of my presence.
Like a bard with an erection,
I give you nocturnal visions.

My comfort is my soul,
within it I lust.
Like honeybees in spring,
I bring sensuality at dusk. 

Dark is to erotica,
like wax is to candles.
Cum dripping poetically.
My cock scribing metaphorically.

Words bring arousals,
and vibrations of one's quest.
As I compose at my ancient desk,
my muse caresses my quill. 

Masturbation is an inebriation, 
if not blessed with aberration.
As my hand slides on my shaft,
I getting the last laugh. 

In the shadows of my mind,
writing is my cursed joy.
I the Sandman of Aberdeen,
taking flight to visit you.

When the first of dewdrops fall,
I hearing my beckon call.
Silent whispers at midnights,
your longing invitation.
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