Bound Silence
Silk breath meets shadow’s thread,
knots bloom like quiet blossoms—
each loop a question of surrender,
each crossing, an unseen trust.
The body becomes a line drawn in air,
a calligraphy of stillness;
every curve remembers wind,
every bind teaches patience.
In tension, there is music unheard,
a hum between restraint and release;
the soul leans into its outline,
learning how stillness moves.
Rope, like thought, defines by touch—
it does not own what it encloses;
it listens until the skin exhales
and the self, unbound, begins to breathe.
Once I got passed the delicious picture I found something even better….your words.
Terrific 👍
We read this offline and don’t know why but but we thought of Casketsharpe, not really your norm. We thought erotic at first but changed our mind preference/acceptance, tight
You tied me up in knots inside my tummy, phew! harriet-jacqui xx
Passionately penned, S. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
You are a true poet in every sense of the word. This is so well written I felt it deep my soul. This is the perfect sensual poem that goes deep into the emotion the woman with tender and powerful depth of passion. No one does this better than you.
John