YES. my simple biceps are purring perfectly slick immobile death rictus wearing skulls. i needle my flesh and ink it and make it pretty
the smiling violence of my triceps bulge distended arcs of fists. ladling terrifically through stale air mingling vibrant vibrations
calm tigers of effortless dream making darkness my arms dance and jolt pleasurably and every body loves the infliction of their splendid pain;they roar and combust suddenly at the night crafting carpals imbued to my wrists jouncing and blustery voices thrash from throats