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Alexis Aug 29
a heart is not a bone,
i suppose it can not be broken .

it's a muscle,
strained far beyond its proper use .

it does not work the same anymore,

honestly
i'd be surprised
if it wanted to work at all .
almat011 Aug 19
Hot steel
The tighter your big and **** muscles, the stronger the ****** tension in me, from your mega powerful beauty of brutal sexuality. The sculpture of your perfect body was sculpted by the gods of eroticism, rock and rap. **** but hot steel that melts from the heat of love and arousal. You awaken in me the brutal call of lust, the animal that dominates in my mind, heart, soul, *****, passion, mixed with sensual tenderness of an endless stream of love and lust, my whole body is scarred from your claws of passion after hard ***. I am completely bound by a passion for you. An unstoppable hunger for *** overwhelms my mind when I examine you, cling to your body shapes like a **** pillow. The whole nervous system is full of love and irresistible attraction. With sincere tenderness, I reach only for you alone. Light as a snowflake, tender as a feather, dreamy as a flying fluff, an ideal barbie goddess, God is so hot, how hot, unbearably **** is so beautiful that I am embarrassed to look into your gorgeous eyes for a long time, as if a sultry lioness is looking at me with the terrible hunger of lust in the soul, with the royal face of arrogant greatness. The **** car of my dreams, with perfect shapes like a super sports car, the speedometer of love and excitement, and makes *****, just rolls over from speed hyper, everything melts and spreads, everything except your perfect body. Well, just mmmmm) well, just wow. I want to start a slide show with your photos or videos and watch the whole day on the span you are my **** hot fetish, you are a song that has been loved all my life, my whole consciousness and subconscious mind is saturated with love for you. Losing you is like losing life itself, my soul moans with pleasure from looking at your body, I get internal ******* from love, my brains don’t even think when I look at you, the bewitching endless bottomless depth of beauty immerses you like a powerful magnet in deep hypnosis lovingly ****** obsession with you I see nothing but you, the magic of your pleasure for my eyes and psyche and glistens in the light with a sugar sparkle and beckons to caress you for days on end I would have had *** with you until the elders , you are next to me, my brains and ***** are just mega excited and *****, it’s getting hotter like in a sauna, and you are becoming more and more sultry and hot in your eyes the fire of debauchery is burning and this makes your eyes super ****, you're sexier and hotter than the temptation, sultry, torrid sexier than the feeling of lust. You are more beautiful than any queen of the empress, actress, singer, **** actress, alien, goddess. For me, you are the goddess of the Internet, media, the queen of any beauty contest, fabulously magically beautiful. When I see you I just have the most powerful ******* explosion of the psyche from love and excitement, my libido just aggressively growls from your body shapes, billions and billions of men fight for your love, your beauty is above blue bloods, any aristocracy, thoughts about you are romantic, sweet sweet eroticism of true love - ****** fantasy from the perfection of your beauty. A passionate cat who sleeps sweetly only in my arms of love, covered like a veil by my wings.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Sneha Thakur Aug 13
.
At the end of the day , it's just you curled within you , within you ,
with your thoughts floating ,
even with all this gravity.

You are a woman ,
With muscles that
stretch and curl ,
With skin ,
Which glows.
No matter how strong you are one cannot simply out-muscle or out-shine a mad man who has great taste in fashion.  
A.M.G. Is the ultimate hooligan it doesn't have to take charge to prove it's tenacity because it's a presidential sedan that puts you in charge.
No need for a spooky entrance because sometimes demons want to dwell were there is brute force.
I miss the 6.2 litre engine, it is the intrinsic Moto of Mercedes," A big engine for the perfect gentlemen".
Cruising luxuriously has no peak when it comes to un-doubtable comfort and well established elegance.  With a classic loud noise one can't but wonder if the barbarian needs marketing.
An angry gentlemen with a smile on his face that never lacks in pace doesn't need frenetic footwork, the gentlemen goes straight to the point  and why wobble on about a winding route when Mercedes automatically includes you in elite circles. Quality that exceeds all levels of maturity, Mercedes keeps getting younger and wiser!
The phrase "numbers don't lie" insinuates that alphabets do lie. Really? How? When their associated with such class...A-class, B-class, C-class, E-class, G-class, S-class and so on. I think the numbers cliche is a turn-off.
Pleasure always mixes with business when it comes to a Benz.
Boy
It took until now
thin and mid 20s
to comprehend
that as a child I was
and as an adult
still very much am
spoiled

little childhood
traumas to mine
               no festering drama
               no shrouded mess

calm can bury like a
gravity blanket
               too hot or too cold
               I complain

I have never clawed
at my belly in hunger
felt my body
fall off in jeweled
pieces but I have
at times been
hungry

adulthood is a lake
blue black and endless
               rife with mudtraps
                    brimming with viperheads
                         scraping at the surface water

I am spoiled
I have not known pain
but I knew a person
whose eyes prodded
               like nails through jello
my insides and cut
tendrils of muscle
and delighted in the
stitching back
               the pushing of
                    needle through
                         meaty bits

some time after
I was grown
but flailing madly
as a comet poised
for landfall

a beetle in
a dust storm
a child with its
first scraped knee

my flesh yearns
for the needle
and for skin all
smooth and
scarred and
like the color of night
               singing
like the color of night
like sky like light
a rapturous blue
mjad Feb 1
Highpitch tone
Over tan
Acne scars
Not a man

Chicken legs
All alone
Zero muscle
Only bone

Fragile heart
Selfish mind
Independent
Never kind
Amoy Mar 2018
Death, darkness, despair, that how I found you.
Stardust, gunpowder, riffle, nine, I’m glad I came in time
Loss, anger, no fear, no care, oh dear!
I stared deep in your eyes and wonder, wonder, wonder and wonder
Why oh why did I let you go
Why oh why did you tell me no
Time, ring, cell, nothing can keep it in
Tears, pain, emotions I wanted none
Gun, run, no fear, no fun, in a minute the bullet left the gun
Into the darkness you retreat, leaving no trace of light not even from the sun
Walls closing in, dark as night, that’s where I found you
Clinging tight to the pain, let me be your knight
You took my hands and we drifted, drifted out of sight
dove Oct 2018
i imagine you rotting. rotting and melting. flesh becomes matter as it falls to the floor. we wear our hearts on our sleeves and the floor wears our skins and muscle. that’s how it always goes, right?

why are you looking at me like that? you know that we’re the same (we’re the sane).

getting back on track, you’re falling apart as i watch (you made sure i did; i couldn’t ever take my eyes off you). you’re completely exposed now, bones and all. you say to me “its like i’m looking in a mirror”. at least, you said with your eyes. your lips are on the floor, sinking into the stained carpet (believe me when i say this because if they were still attached i would have kissed you right then and there).

suddenly, there are tears in my eyes. you try to wipe them away, but they don’t stop. you pick up some of your muscle to try to soak them up, and i tell you that’s not the kind of tissue i need. you laugh, but nothing comes out (your lungs have already decomposed. it seems you’ve already forgotten).

and then i look away. my tears dry, and, as i look back, you’ve reformed. good as new. not for long though, as soon as a minute goes by you start this cycle again. you’re rotting. i look away, you’re back. rot, return, rot, reform,

don’t you ever get tired? (i do.)
i guess you could say i’m “back” but was i ever really gone?
Have you ever peeled an orange?
Felt the satisfaction as the smooth husk glides
Right off, falls away in a rush
Opening to the sweet flesh inside

Taking pleasure in the simple things
Those smooth and flawless actions
So why should flaying men be different?
Why the cruel infractions?

You say you scream from pain
But I hear the rejoicing
Hidden in your shrieks
As I flay the skin right off your face
Revealing the ****** smile
Concealed beneath your cheeks

Ah, the rush, the thrill
Peeling you like a fallen fruit
Elation takes me to new heights
As I joyfully flay your skin suit

My concentration becomes delight
As I open you up to new views
The rapturous beauty
Your muscles, tendons, bones, and sinews
I asked for unusual poem prompts.
I received this:
"The sweet feeling of flaying skin off muscle."

Blood chilling. But here's my best shot.
Michael Ryan Mar 2018
With time I grow--
growing similar to a tree
layer upon layer
my trunk
becomes ever sturdy.

Mental stamina
is the deepest of layers
that can outmatch
any muscle that I could have ever built.

Muscles dwindle within days,
but the fortitude to continue on
will never stifle or faulter;
nor will it ever  need a rest day.

So people
there are aesthetics of beauty
that the mind can accomplish;
some feats never dreamed
by even the most physically ept.

When you find time for the gym
remember that time was at a loss
from when you could
have learned something new
anywhere else.
For some reason most people never work out the muscles that would last them a life time.  Just because you can't see it; doesn't mean it isn't happening.
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