Do What You Like

Weave through your fingers The binding, holding rope Play, caress and twist that rope Play, caress and twist it. Tie my wrists together, friend. I will not move, I will not bend, I will not strive, Escape or blame, complain, So tie my wrists together. Mock the eyes that stare so bleak, That are so blank, and frank, Without a care, not soft Or subtle, or warm… And you know they were. You know they burned. You hold me to your whims, my friend. I won’t react, I won’t be cracked, But do your worst, your best, my friend, You tied me tightly captive. I will not move for you, I will not cry for you, I will not dance, and prance, and try for you, My wrists are bound and held in place, But I’ll not move E’en if you mock, e’en if you toy, E’en if you tempt, Or play coy. For the binding, holding rope, it blinds, And moulds, and holds me.