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Tag: erotica

The Past

Posted on 13/10/2020 by Dove Grey

A yellow moon glowers, Over my homely mansion. A werewolf stalks on the pavement level. Here in the trees are the huge boughs, Of the neighborhood. We dwell, in the night-time, Above the ground, In a complex of closed apartments, Made of wood. The sickening dim light of the streets, Shines up weakly at the…

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from Pre-Cortex Lands #3

Posted on 25/08/202014/09/2020 by Dean English

caution: erotic content XV trunk at the base, grinding home animal sounds and overtones grass fronted, the wetness, she moans eye contact, blue on yellow/brown showing him that, in skirt, while squatting to his hat, putting her number on the stone on top of the notes. will reply he nods, mouth pushed in against the…

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Important Work To Pretend To #2

Posted on 13/07/202018/07/2020 by Dean English

caution : erotic content . I shouldn’t drive I shouldn’t even look  toward the van across the fcuk it’s warm  in here, and nothing  matters much more  than c’mon, man and there I am fleeing from  the vast consumptive  emptiness. freed from what a mirror  must  like stars and like the  heart-beat arriving in her…

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Important Work To Pretend To

Posted on 04/07/2020 by Dean English

caution: erotic content that great consuming emptiness how vague this mortal spree never more those drugs I took the floor unswept, the pee in jars— employable, butt-lazy, the alkaline, the acid dashes, daring naked corridors of shared communal thought with splashy jars of urine, caught in common thinking like a harness, hinged, a hammock in…

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Mines of Reverie

Posted on 03/06/202006/06/2020 by Dean English

a carting-horse. engraving minor morse from mines of reverie ____________________ I have little, for a man of 50 with his faculties intact, yet it is quite a lot. I leave the house unlocked and the heart— while opening smoothly like a red sunrise under clouds it closes pretty quick so watch your fingers climbing into…

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Bruising Poundings

Posted on 12/05/202018/06/2020 by Dean English

from Bruising Poundings 1 she always gets up early Leaving warm, her pillows (she always gets a pearly …) dressed … leaving warmer pillows dressed in feather, yearning more love than a spouse and children consume without a flower back or a foot rub. 2 Night dew crisping on windows the sky-citrus crimsons pink out yellow…

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Jaraper

Posted on 23/02/202010/07/2020 by Dean English

caution: contains erotic content Years before the adult animated cartoon series: Big Mouth, with its Hormone Monsters ill-advising, mostly, the cusping pubescences of teenagers, I wrote this poem.   The sliding door could be pushed a little extra until a gap, an undetectable slither gave enough to see in to the shower and bath. I…

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Affair

Posted on 09/12/2019 by Dove Grey

If I was in love, I would take her everywhere with me, Show her around, clothe her dine with her bed her. And she needs drinks, I’d provide, To call this friend an alibi – One to run to, one to hold, As days will pass, in years of old. If I was young, not…

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The Calling

Posted on 19/09/201823/02/2020 by Dean English

I heard their mute calling through the fence, the honeysuckle hedge and the weatherboard wall to my bedroom. I climbed out my window crossed the driveway and pulled myself up then over the corrugated fence that I’d painted brown for pocket money over three consecutive Saturday mornings before cricket to answer three girls in tent…

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Do Something To Me

Posted on 09/06/201709/06/2017 by Dean English

contains erotic content Jackets, rackets, hoodies, bras and hankies. Kitchen, picnic, travel, children’s toys, and uniforms. There is the same smell in every shop: rough-soft, moth-balled, time-stopped. I was clearing the shop of clothes that wouldn’t sell, installing new racks for the goodwear, banging on the beams, everything was everywhere. She stood under me looking up and I…

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in entering

Posted on 28/05/201712/06/2018 by Dean English

caution: contains erotic content a lovely little mouth she wouldn’t take her top off her apple-small breasts, dormant in middle school if you were to guess had swelled with milk and feed her children, then flattened like two bits of quilted doona. she’d shared the seat, behind me on the bus, with another from the…

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How Was Your Day?

Posted on 22/05/201722/05/2017 by Dean English

Caution: contains erotic content I didn’t know if she could see me, the woman, in her 50’s, a sport shape in the shoulders, squash or tennis I’d guess, but now with the belly fat of feasting; blond -assisted, cut nicely short; her breasts were not much bigger than softballs and sat up separated by the…

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