I stacked you with these things endlessly,
Spoilt by your tip sensitive soulmate from above.
Unable to handle my love for anything edible,
Love handle you turned from being flat.
If my greed were to be touched,
You lay there dangling to be grabbed.
Inducing endless guilt every time before a mirror,
Protrusions out of my muscle fit, not a muscle I feared.
Pampered and spoilt, I dragged you to a place,
Slaughter house you desisted.
There I lifted, pulled and pushed oblique stuff,
Heavy as they came, with devoted rhythm.
Sweating, you gave in crying out foul,
A holocaust you felt devoured into your soul.
Reeling from the loss of flab; aghast,
You contributed to erstwhile naysayer’s flabbergast.
This place which shone you to primal opulence,
Was a body shop, fondly called gym.
It wouldn’t entirely be wrong to call you a temple,
For along with my soul, you continue to house him.