Page 58 of Twisted

Your blood and lymph flow normally again,

Mobility restored to aching limbs.

I’m lost now, though, just lying on the floor,

No longer having purpose, coiled

Upon myself and put away until

The next time I am needed to restrain you.

I know that someday I will be exhausted—

Frayed, kinked, broken—from efforts to confine,

And I will be discarded for new rope.

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