The Hand
I can hear him calling my name,
But I am so bound I can't respond.
I feel a hand next to me.
Sweeping across my naked body.
I squirm and struggle trying to get loose.
The ropes and chains just seem to tighten.
I hear him calling again.
My fight intensifies.
The ropes burn and hurt as they cut into the flesh.
The chains, a cooling relief, push harder and harder.
I stop breathing.
The hand next to me also stops.
Fear and panic build.
I gasp for air.
He calls for me again.
He seems farther away then ever.
I quit the fight.
Nothing to fight for now.
He is leaving.
But the hand remains.
An aweful hand.
The hand that is now touching me.
The hand that is becoming my hand.
