Ropes That Bound Me
What happens when the ropes that bound my skin disperse across time? Through galaxies, like stars exploding — a supernova I cannot control. Instead, I watch as it unfolds, an explosion that ended to renew my flesh and bones. A sun whose heat thrums across my aching limbs: lips to lips and skin to skin.
What happens when the ropes that bound my body felt less like a chokehold and more of a caress? Filled with care and compassion and calm. There is sand beneath my feet, I sink deeper and deeper, but it is not so scary anymore.
What happens when the ropes that bound my waist suddenly felt like a hug? Squeezing me gently. Tell me, my love, am I a flower to you? Whose tears stream through its own soil, growing herself whole.
What happens when the ropes that bound my hands turn out to be an invisible string? Turned from thick and wretched strands, to soft, golden thread.
What happens when the ropes stopped bounding my body, but instead start to entwine them to yours?
What happens when I am helplessly bound by your grace and faith? With silk for skin and almond for eyes, these ropes do not bound me anymore. Instead, they have led me to you.
Tell me, my love, what happens then?
Note: I wrote this poem thinking about the time I found myself denying my sexuality. When my epiphany seemed to have swallowed me whole, I loathed the way I felt and was just questioning why I feel the way I do.
This poem spoke about the acceptance I had within me. The moment I saw my sexuality as a normal, mundane aspect of my life, understanding my feelings came easier for me. When I realized how beautiful being queer is, I also realized how beautiful love is.
Anyway, it’s good to be back! Life has been a real pain recently.
If you’re still reading, check out my other poems hehe.
Jafiyah, 2023
