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Adjuration - Portrait of a Young Man as The Artist — LiveJournal
I am bound.
I am bound.
I am bound and cannot see
but for the air that doesn't move.
I proffer my sense of touch.
Entrusted with the cold of rope
it possesses my security.
I am your whim
and I am bound.
Remove my touch
and the friendly cold of rope
steals away with my security.
Your whim and
I am bound.
I am bound and in security
I trust.
I am bound.

Current Mood: contemplative contemplative

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