The Brilliant Machine

Each rise, a screw,

each breath, a clench—

In sight: stark flesh,

outstanding muscle, flexed hip—

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Bound, strapped, and clamped—

restraining rods in place—

the engine labors...

speed and strength interlace.

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The gas is lust,

fucking dawn to dusk,

sinews wound tight—

rooms drenched with musk.

Open valves release,

pressure falls like rain,

exhaust steaming softly,

silenced by the strain.