Entangled
mixed media on paper 30/40
It was past 11:00 pm and the room down the hall was dimly lit. I sensed a hint of doom (even a bellow) but I chose the tantalizing gaze. Her body appeared perfect in the semi-darkness where gravity was her friend. Her curves grew larger almost heavy and though my lips were tightly closed I emitted sounds reminding me of my wedding night when I was silent... faceless. I was told the rope was faith and that it should be neatly coiled when not in use. The tangle has become a fence about my feet and neck. Sometimes it caresses me. Other times I feel it cut into my flesh and the voice of Judy Collins sings:
"Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what its pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you live too long
Days drip slowly on the page
You catch yourself
Pacing the cage." (Bruce Cockburn)