what shackles do we
put on
clinking like bracelets
what do we choose to
be captivated by
enraptured with
eyes, ears, hands, tongue, nose
in submission to sensation
of a symphony that stretches slowly into
the stickiness of
time skipping
what cells do we walk into
prisons do we beg to be given entry to
what shackles have we forgotten about
Listen–
do you hear clinking?