The model

Today another man just left my house, running in terror with his shirt off.

I pick them out in the gym, looking at their sculpted bodies.

I invite them to pose for sketches in my private studio.

Some gladly accept, until they see the stone base with shackles and chains.

Then they burst into panic, fleeing before I can explain my artistic vision.

Sighing, I look at the pile of dissected limbs and torsos I have collected.

A perfect David, made of perfect parts.

I just need to find the ideal head to complete my macabre masterpiece.

The next bodybuilder could well be the lucky model.