Tonight's Poet Corner: Keyhole

Keyhole
by Belinda Roddie 

Reggie Hopper
could see the
keyhole
located in everyone's
stomach. Not heart.
Not head.
Stomach.

It was pulsing with













something.
Not
liquid. Not quite
solid, either. But

pulsing.

And when she
gazed upon a person
shrouded
in

[rage, sorrow, guilt, malice,
envy, judgment, coldness,
scrutiny, vengeance,
pain]

she could take a
key

and
twist it

so that the pulsing
goodness
could pump
blood into
their eyes.

What they
did
with it
was not up to


her.

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