30 November 2008

Bound.

You pull me down--
Wrists tied and ankles bound,
And a blindfold over staring eyes--
Drag me to 'reality'
And try to paralyse my mind.
Mock my flights of phantsy
Hurt and harm and try to tame,
Bury and burn and drown me.
And yet, fingers tight 'round my throat,
You whisper soft words, my love,
And your mouth is warm on mine.
And were I to give you me...
But I cannot and shall not,
So the question doesn't apply.

(This ties in with Bereft.)

1 comment:

Astraeus said...

very strong jolts of word

Loved it. Ur poem reminded me of Adrienne Rich's stuff