From @mizarcle: Born with shackles. Clipped wings. Trapped within oneself. This isn't me. The reflection that looks back at me from the mirror. These are not my body parts. Not my shoulders, not my hips and definitely not my breasts. I am somebody else. I am a man. I am a man in a woman's body.
From @thegodlet : Two and a half days in a hotel room. A story written in bed. Beads of sweat and sleep. Morning kisses and breakfast. Rumpled sheets and room service. A shy hello and a tearful goodbye. I can still feel the caress of your lips on my skin, and the weight of your body on mine.
From @freelosopher : "Everybody heard it, m'lord!" "Did anybody see the killer?"
"Somebody must have, your honor." "Objection, m'lord! The prosecution cannot make assumptions!" "Objection sustained. Prosecution, you have no witnesses." "Nobody comes forward, your honor. After all, there was no body found at the crime scene. Just a pool of blood in the shape of a man."
From @akinak87 : Her limbs glistened in the waning light of the sun, her curves lovingly caressed by the cool breeze. Normally quite vocal, she was uncharacteristically quiet so as not to disturb the still of dusk. The sailor felt a surge of emotion as he gazed upon his first love – the body of water he called home.
From @vivekisms : He was filled with a lot of love. He just wanted to lie next to her. Hold her. Just like the old times. The eagerness with which he walked home. Dreaming of her body – the arch of her back, the suppleness of her body, only to find a note, “I’m out of love. Sorry”.
From @nimue_ : To her , anything beautiful was art in making. The eyes greedily took notice of each line the creator made or bent, some exotic some just a pleasure to watch. Often, when she stood naked in front of mirror, she wondered how could he love her shapeless body . He wrote about beauty of her tears those nights.
From @textuallyhorny : She felt like a piece of cheese. Yes, it was blatant & cheesy. Starved of lust, her body came as an oasis. She seemed the last lurve & I died on her that curve. Cream felt shy on her skin, it was zero hour & fourteen. It was her profession.To me she felt pristine.
From @themodestninja : A fit body can do anything, he believed. And so his body wasn't a temple. It was Mecca. "Can you fly?" asked the Monk. "Pfft, can you?" he replied with ridicule. "Watch," the monk shut his eyes in meditation and flew away. Then he opened them. "Saw?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
From @_PWN : A body of love. A body so perfect. Her skin so soft. Her hair so fluid. Her eyes so lucid. Her lips so warm. Her fingers trembling. Her face emotionless. A body scarred. A face wounded. A mind numb. A heart crushed. A temple destroyed. Cold. Broken. Naked. Numb. Dead. She. She, In the mirror.
From @gauravjagwani : I saw my tattoos. Such wonderful stories behind them, I tell you. That what inspired me. That what continues to inspire me. A constant reminder of what matters in life. I look at my tattoos every single day. Then, I look at my scars. The truth is that the stories behind them are far better.
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