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Sins Rise

Tags: erotic
The Sandman am I, 
with grains for sleep. 
As the moon glows,
I have a tale.

In my desperation
of past reflections.
Images on my walls,
I masturbate.

Through my trousers,
silken refined.
Shaft of past sins rise,
be still my cock.

Sweet ejaculations,
casting neap tides on rocks
of ocean swells,
and precum steaming.

On distant echoes,
sirens serenade.
Illusions of insomnia,
creating shadows in my boudoir.

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