Erotic Poetryspring thingin the south every spring
the past few years
i grew accustomed to
the week long bloom
of Bartlett pear trees
for those days, i'd smell
semen in the air, thick as
a real fuck
and then forget
until next spring
the trees bloom here, as well
catching it inside my nose tonight
when i ventured out
filling the city with the
smell of cum, and waking
it up, whether concious or not.
more than the usual, i'm driven to fuck.
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