Forty years is not so long.

I bet I could do that time with my eyes closed

and my legs open.

What is freedom? When you call me

Baby 

and wait for me to smile and croon

(I should never 

have sung to you in the first place I should never 

have used my voice at all)

but, strung out, kicking and choking, I 

trust you'll find me here.

Plate and pacify me,

bear me gold and oiled as the centerpiece 

of your traitor table

Else demand service. I rise for you, uncoiled 

at last. 

I will sharpen the knife. 

I light the candles: force my skin to soften

under hot wax and heavy hands.