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- Erotic Poetry
- The Man Who Ate Roses
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His tongue was bloody with wounds from the thorns. Roses. Wonderful sweet dew covered roses. Juicy. Warm from the sun. Remenescent of peaches in a june orchard. He plunged his tongue inside the center petals. Oral contact with pistil. Pollen seeped from somewhere within the erotic flower. Sweet liquid of botany mingled with heated obsession.
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