  They gave you strait-jackets to bore you. Like an unwilling promise Your legs were tied together. But people can only violate Their own conception of reality, And your actual curves Preserved their sculptural liberty. Leaving their semblance on your flesh Your lines sped inward till they gained The center where emotion changes To a speck of quivering clarity. Within you phantoms of reality Danced with plausibilities of mind, Seeking to be consumed By the oblivion which is understanding. You feared that your return to motion Would mean a succession of disappointments— Tamely grazing arrows Changed to wounds by the desiring heart Take my hand and move. Only two statues can stride together In a manner invisible Save to certain unreasonable adjustments Of eyesight and of hearing. |
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