Her son manacled our wrists with his toy
handcuffs. Funny for a while, but the key
was nowhere to be found. Now you gotta
stay together for always, he giggled.
It took an hour to pick the lock. Somewhere
in the world, there's a thirty-something man
who might recall being chased and tickled
half to death. I was the man who escaped.
She was the woman with the chafed red hand.
God, I hope she forgot me as swiftly
as her skin healed. That she is not holding
on to the other half of this memory,
that we are not still in bondage. Let go.
Please, let go now. I've served my thirty days.

Comments
Highhat | August 8, 2011 - 16:59
Very clever Wilkybarkid- I hope you are all right now ;D
Cavalcaderl | August 9, 2011 - 22:03
new WilkyBarKid
Really enjoyed, good poem, hope
your both unlocked now? Not manacled to-gether brutal. Congrats: on the cherry!
julie
WilkyBarKid | August 10, 2011 - 17:33
Thanks guys,
When I embarked on this, I had no idea where I was going. A few times, I thought I was going to burn out. But somehow, I managed to dredge up sufficient memories of a non-romance from 30 years ago to sustain a sort of fractured narrative.
In the process, I stirred up a lot of old feelings that I had obviously failed to deal with at the time.
I don't usually do Writing As Therapy and this was not quite cathartic, but I'm glad it's over.
Right at the end, I was afraid I wasn't going to stop!
shoe | August 15, 2011 - 18:27
Just read them all and enjoyed every one, for different reasons, have you thought about the words with jam comedy comp for some of them?
fatboy74 | August 27, 2011 - 13:59
Holidays got in the way of me seeing this through to the end but i'm glad to have caught up and great to see it if anything getting even stronger at the end (that she is not holding on to the other half of this memory - wonderful stuff)- this whole thing was a real triumph and an unenviable task and something that deserves masses of credit. Really well done. ATB Fatboy. :-)