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First glances are strong and ripe,
First touch is like a midnight musk against my skin,
Right leg goes over and i'm sitting on my black beauty Virago,
She's a warrior, fierce as fire and brings light into my darkness.
Everyone tells me "you're" dangerous but can't they see i enjoy the thrill of the rush between my legs as the rumble dream continues further unto highway 10.
Fresh crisp air, blue sunny sky, these are moments i'll remember when i'm older, true and genuine.
I love my motorcycle and always will,
no one can ever change the rumble dreams i have for my ride.
A lady and her motorcycle. I want to travel the world with you
Yang Yan Aug 2020
homeless, no
metropolis without a home
blaring and clinking and laughing
lights sharp like daggers
me and strange men—and
you
blinding
motorcycle

red, yellow, purple, neon
all blurs together
then, music, like iceland, like
a flooded jungle, drowning
I let go,
take me away

you are my key,

---

gun in hand
orchestra in other
and bach and beethoven in between
I'm sure we heard the same organs that day
but you, other hand on bible
prayed

why hadn't I?

my actions will have consequences
.

---

my only chance

test after test
failure after failure
higher
and
higher
suffocating desperation
I
grab on and
never
let go

**** you, and
I'll
be

free
furi ost
There's something about the rumbling sound beneath our feet in the summers heat and the smell of exhaust covering our leather jackets and jeans.
I want to take my beauty and ride her from day until dawn.
I want to take her on adventures that we never seen before to make our ride as magical as it should seem.
When your with me, i feel free, because you're my stallion, my black beauty Queen.
The virago roars and runs beneath my ***, as my hair dances in the wind to the sound of my bikes heart beat matching to mine when adrenaline's meet.
She's loud, dark and fun.
So exciting, all the places that me and you can see.
Let's ride into the sunset, where our heaven meets and it's just me, you and my black beauty.
Me, and my motorcycle Black Beauty.
Lonely days feel like empty hearts,
I want to be like you,
Silver spoon handed to you, while i have to be the scrubby loon.
Why are hearts shattered like broken glass pieces, but when hearts are broken like glass pieces the worst part of it is to be looking through it as if a mirror reflects your broken soul.
I want to live like you, to have what you got but every time i try and try to be like you, i fail.
I" am who i am but that fails too.
Who am i, i don't quite understand.
Happy life, saddened by night.
Tired, crying tears of agony, hurt soul for two.
But i'll never be like you.
But i learned that's ok
Because even though you have it all,
I got more to my heart than what yours may say
I am free
I have love
But most of all, i got my man who means more to me than you.
oh....
and my bike black beauty, who shines so bright i can finally see the light and know...i don't want to be like you.
I want to be me, this is who i am.
And for that i forgive you.
I used to wish i could be like someone else who had it all, until i realized myself that my man and my little family and motorcycle is all i need with the love that surrounds me.
Thank you.
Hot summers sun on my long hair,
skin tans and cold drinks with the smell of fresh fire wood burning under the moonlight stars.
Warm kisses, and soft hands touching, time when we feel free out of hibernation.
Sound of the rumble in the smokey air, my boyfriend's here and we go for a ride down the summer roads on my black motorcycle.
These are the summer's i will remember, that become nostalgic.
Longing to feel your skin against mine under the summer heat, we sweat, breathe and kiss more to the sound of our own heartbeats.
Laughing, talking and making memories together, we unite as one when the journey continues with us together. 2 people and 1 soul. I can feel yours. Can you feel mine?
George Apr 2020
You are selfish, shallow, adrenaline seeking. Blind, short sighted, borderline death seeking.

Thrill catching, leathers matching, fuel flowing, shallow breathing.
The release of control, self preservation is screaming.

Your intrigue for the wild has brought you here. In seeking proximate demise your intentions are clear.

However is there more, to his bottomless hole? More than adrenaline, flight, the search for extol?

Could there be meaning found where reasoning retires? Is there space in this world for simply following desires?

Vast I’m sure is your strength of intrigue. Or fear of what if, what next, what indeed. The roads may be littered, treacherous, packed. But what really matters when all what ifs are sacked?

It’s the smell of the air, the fumes, the tires. Enveloping you whole, until you retire.

No question of when, how or why. No pondering which, what, wondering eyes.

Pure pleasure, indeed, is what we seek. Here and now, not bitter or bleak.

An antidote to chaos, here we have found. Me and my bike, 3 feet from the ground.

X
nick armbrister Mar 2020
Motorcycle
I rode a bike one time
When I was 17
Never again
They’re dangerous
from

Incident Report 74399 2020

JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX
mjad Nov 2019
Skrt skrt comes the bike
Of the boy that i like
But we aren't dating
We just kiss and ****
So wish me luck
Trying to avoid all the feelings
P I Watson May 2019
The image breathes joy
I leave it out. It urges
me to be better
Aeryn Mar 2019
A smooth head tilt toward the sidewalk,
he gently gestures for us to cross
When ignored, he snaps a bent leg into place
as naturally as he's attracted to men
soft, intelligent eyes glinting through his rainbow helmet

His cycle stutters like he did when asking Jason out,
breathing out life like he breathed out "I love you",
a mustang anxious to rear up and gallop
He soothes the handlebars with steady palms,
then unleashes his bike's power
as soon as we're safe
on the other side,

off to meet up at a romantic café
with a man named Peter Ryde.
I was crossing the street this morning and saw the most passionate look in this motorcyclist's eyes. I had to write about him.
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