Across The Stones

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Erotic Flash  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group



When it hurts the most these nights of the dead, beneath the waxy camphor cold moon. With notions of sand monsoons, and I am still dripping death's distillation. From the catheter of my semen, easing my pain. Across the stones of our Sodom. The pillars are fully engorged for paramours and the footprints in the sand.

 


Submitted: July 12, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Atticus Abbey. All rights reserved.

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