String Poem by Mark Williams

My love for you is like a string, mistress.
A string coated in gasoline.
A madman is calling me, to tie it in knots,
Or he will take my mistress' life.
I tie the knots.
I tie, tie, tie.
The string shortens.
With each knot I pull, the string explodes,
By friction.
The knots burst into flame,
The string burns scarce.
I keep creating junctions,
Stop points.
Soon my fingers are too dense,
Too husky for delicate work like this.
I cut them down with a blade.
I keep tying.
'Till tiny threads are left,
Coated in blood.
The string is barely existent.
My hands, are barely existent.

My love is like an endless string.
My hands ache.