Menu

Harvest Moon

Erotic Poetry
2003-09-27

The cliff looms near as I stare into the ravine.. grasping, tightening, holding him to me, to my life sustaining, life creating treasure. I am his Pandora's box, his moon and stars and sky, and he is mine. Then I am falling again, landing askew on jagged rocks.Pierced, filled, his hands holding me as I am his over and over again.His to take, his to pleasure. His to use. And I am gone.

Europe

(115)
(732)
(288)
(241)
(51)
(327)
(939)
(58)
(85)
(120)
(24)
(76)
(85)
(972)
(1255)
(198)
(139)
(9)
(32)
(1018)
(4)
(65)
(1)
(215)
(277)
(5)
(87)
(761)
(45)
(660)
(226)
(245)
(1873)
(2)
(46)
(24)
(792)
(205)
(155)
(502)
(409)

All World

(2)
(20)
(555)
(110)
(1)
(25)
(2)
(4)
(152)
(371)
(568)
(5)
(6)
(175)
(4)
(4)
(298)
(406)
(254)
(2)
(5)
(415)
(1)
(501)
(163)
(128)
(10)
(77)
(115)
(6)
(928)
(12)
(71)
(176)
(1)
(9)
(50)
(86)
(15)
(10)
(277)
(737)
(41)
(190)
(149)
(2)
(3)
(613)
(11)
(1412)
(7)
(26)

Stories

(6)
(121)
(237)
(196)
(75)
(326)
(105)
(49)
(16)
(8)
(46)
(1402)
(200)
(13)
(1)
(13)
(365)
(1193)
(438)
(444)
(1)
(4807)
(553)
(50)
(14)
(136)
(3)
(75)
(167)
(7)
(9)
(114)
(155)
(40)
(134)
(70)
(4)
(431)
(8)
(340)
(855)
(1744)
(38)
(164)
(2477)
(180)
(16)