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My Bacon
Date: 7/1/2016, Categories: Erotic Poems, Author: adagio_sabadicus
Three hours past yesterday as shadows caress, in dark of the descending quill I confess, as Corners of my mind dictate my script, the fat drips from my bacon. Now a visitant of my own making, tales of omelets and oaken churned butter, distant shores I scribe between parting thighs, like echoes deep in faraway vagina's. All alone in my ghostly kitchen, bringing chills to my humbling ego, as if burnt toast is my heavenly host, hallelujah amen and small stipends. Raking fingers upon my shivering foreskin, kiss of the mist tweaking my neck, as muse of death in her seductive aura, dressed obsidian in attire setting me fire, the fat drips from my bacon.
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