The Key

There were no teeth,
No long hard shaft,
Or bulbous head,
Shaped and hardened,
Rounded, yet flattened
At tip’s end.

There was no opening,
No slit with a rounded top,
No dark crevice
No mechanism to unlock.

No hard iron bars
With gaps gaping betwixt
Or hard concrete floor
With dull florescence lit.

There was no key,
No cage to unlock,
Nothing holding him,
Except his singular thoughts.

He paced
He spit
He snarled
He hungered

She stood enraptured
His power steeling into her
Feeling her beast rise in answer.

She paced
She spit
She snarled
She hungered

She stood enraptured
Beast answering beast.

© Kate Spyder

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About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Key

  1. A primal call and an equal, if not greater, answer. Like pack animals.

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