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Anand Prakasque
Poems
Sep 2015
under table.
not only her satin ***** was wet.
his beard was drenched in her juices of suppressed madness.
for a muse to rupture,
on a bed or a wall is all a play,
And tales of desire.
" bend "
, he said while sniffing her neck.
#******
Written by
Anand Prakasque
27/M/Bombay, India
(27/M/Bombay, India)
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