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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.
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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