Before the dawn of new day I scribe.
Early sunrise behind shuttered gables.
Destiny leads me when I compose,
erotic pages of sensual prose
Before new 'morrow.
As cellos play silently,
Ink seducing me on pages bare.
Soon to be tomes darkly shadowed,
of erotic fantasies.
Beneath copse of willows,
my muse comforts my soul.
Eternally breathing immortality.
With her lips traversing my penis.
The spirit within me lust.
My long talons sashaying upon her bust.
Whispering of la chambre à coucher,
within the chill of my mausoleum
on Dartmouth Green Ivy.
She swallows my seed.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-poems/operatic-overture.aspx">Operatic Overture</a>