Ropes are inanimate objects, they hold no feelings.
But in skilled hands they become so much more.
They carry the life, the words, the feelings of the hands they run through.
Ropes are nothing, they are simply fibers bound together and knotted.
But in skilled hands they become lines connecting one point to another. Holding strong and true.
Ropes simply just are.
But in skilled hands they lust after, desire, devour, tether to, build trust, draw out, trust, and love pure and deep.
But… in untrained hands
They become lashings in pain and anguish
They weather and become worn
They hurt and consume
They hate and burn
They restrict
They take
They kill








