Plopped out of your pocket
Steely and shiny, a solitary key.
With a chuckle and a sigh,
Through the corner of your eye
You murmured, “Ah! My key.”
In our last encounter
You had a stern silence
No words, no smile or tears.
An ice cream, I offered.
You gazed and said,
I was a good man.
You were a bonded girl,
kidnapped from across the bound
No friend, no acquaintance
No communication in a new town.
“Are things better now?” I wondered.
“It is calmer.
No unwanted turmoil, torture and bruise,
I have a phone, a few friends, a master with some mercy.”
Holding the key between your thumb and index;
You said with glee,
“Worthy to mention,
Now, I have a room and a key.”
