Gladitorial

The modern man dons his helmet, pulls on his gloves and straps the wrist bands tight. He wears a coat of leather, embossed with death’s heads and crossed bones. He feet are shod in boots. He climbs aboard a challenging machine that revs and sums up power on demand. A motorcycle. His jacket reads, Icon Moto, a homage to gods of machines. This man warms up by bending his legs and arms and doing exercises upon the pavement beside his bike. He will go out into traffic and be torn to pieces by enemies without blood. ♦

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Old Flame

There’s nothing to say, nothing to explain. They can’t do anything to make it go away. All the toils and reasons, even religion with its quest for sexless purity a self evident lie, is powerless to vanquish the simple truth. Love never dies. ♥

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Soul Unleashed

Come away from that piano and play me. What do you think I mean? Play my emotions, my thoughts, my very soul. Unmitigated isn’t it? In a world of innuendo and contrivance, in a world of disappointment and ideals thought nothing of, play me. Use me as an instrument of the expression of your soul. That would be love, wouldn’t it? Bought and sold like Christmas, but not with us. Play me. Use me with all you bring to this moment, all the practice, contempt for lesser effort and desire unto passion you long to show, go ahead. Play me. Use me and unleash our souls. ♥

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Dark May

Cream filled, chocolate on chocolate to a fault if sweetness may be faulted. Rich and delicious, a candy more a feast and taken only in bites, otherwise the power of pleasure would be too much and harm the connoisseur. ♥

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