Words bind me, wrapping around me like vines
And like vines they grow, and constrict, like a boa
And like a boa they hiss in my ear, the most wonderful things.
Words chain me, tethering my wrists and ankles like iron
And like iron they do not rot or wither, like Eternity,
And like Eternity, I do not know when they will end.
Words shackle me, holding me down like paralysis,
And like paralysis, they have no immediate cure - like Love,
And like Love, within them I am free and beautiful and alive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem