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Ancient animals were squirting
their cocks greased
Our fathers displayed
by the folds of their sheaths
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even on the run
in excrement and blood.
their members proudly
and the grain of their balls.
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For the female of the Middle Ages
a solid cockswain
Even Kleber
apparently had
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be she angel or swine
was always in mind;
with his slightly lying pants
the goods it took.
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Furthermore, man
but the enormity of his member
A sterile time has struck:
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is the proudest mammal
is amazingly misleading.
the horse and ox
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have bridled their desire
to display their genital
in the shrubs of swarming
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and nobody dares
pride anymore
children at play.
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Our asses are not like theirs.
unbuttoned men
or shamelessly bathing
I have seen the shape
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I have frequently seen
behind hedges
where children stray.
and fate of man's ass.
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Firmer and paler than theirs
with obvious planes
but for women
blooms only in that
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ours is supplied
veiling the hairy mesh;
their long bushy satin
enchanting crack.
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It's a marvelous moving
as in carvings
in tables
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ingeniousness
of angels
with cheeky hollow smiles.
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Oh! If only I were naked
my forehead before
then we'd be free
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seeking pleasure, seeking peace
his glorious length
to murmur and weep!
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Dark and puckered
humbly hidden in the moss
as love flows
to the crater's rim
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like a lavender carnation
it breathes, damp
down the soft ramp
of his pale ass.
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Filaments
have cried beneath cruel winds
across small clots
to lose themselves
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with milky tears
shoving them
of reddish loam
in the beckoning slope.
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In my dreams
my soul of jealous
browning his nest
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I've joined with this vent
physical coitus
and sobbing spout.
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It's the swooning sack
the tube the heavenly
in the womanly wet
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and the dancing dick
seed descends
of paradise.
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