Bondage Art

Coarse fibers rub against a landscape laid out with atmospheres and rich soil, my breasts and long blonde hair, fresh water that began as runoff from snow-capped mountains, cutting through valleys and heading out to sea. His hands are the hands of a mason, oblivious to ancient volcanoes that rained down molten sediment; molten sediment that dried and became clay; clay that was excavated and packed into blocks; blocks that were fired in a kiln to become bricks. And I become a volcano equally unaware of the mason.

The hemp rope, is wrapped around my feet, snaking its way up my body, crisscrossing and disregarding borders as if I’m not a map but a photo taken from outer space. The friction between my breasts, around my arms and up my back, scorches me. Why aren’t they grabbing buckets of water? Why can’t I hear sirens off in the distance? Empty screams from the vacuum of space, “SEE ME! LOOK AT ME! I’M RIGHT HERE!”

My body now fully wrapped and suspended in stasis. Tectonics below my surface create fissures in this new roped exoskeleton. Bubbling up through the cracks I see the little girl that didn’t care what anyone thought. I see the same little girl who cared too much. I see a woman surrounded by people who loved her, the same people she hid from. STOP BOTHERING ME! I mouthed, now floating in zero-g, opening my eyes, peering back at myself from the exosphere.

Becoming a celestial body my elements fuse, and grow heavy. It takes light years for my protons to travel back to earth, collected in telescopes by amateur astronomers, reformatted into digital images, and posted on the internet. But the images are a retelling of my mythology. Historians, desperate to grasp me, wave their hand through the void of who I was, missing their target, destroying constellations, and sending shock waves that rewrite my orbit.

The ropes that held my body together are the same ropes that ripped me apart, terraforming my earth into a new landscape, one where the hills are now a desolate dry lake bed and the desserts are lush green jungles, an alien topography I have yet to circumnavigate, unsure why I should even bother, knowing that tomorrow will bring a changing climate, a fresh landscape, and different colored ropes.