Entitled

I left the key where you told me to.

On the nail by the door, still warm from your hand.

On the nail by the door, still warm from your hand,

you said it was nothing—just in case you came late.

You said it was nothing—just in case you came late,

so I left it, metal against metal, easy to take.

So I left it, metal against metal, easy to take,

and I didn’t wait to hear the lock turn.

I didn’t wait to hear the lock turn,

didn’t stay to see the door open.

Didn’t stay to see the door open,

I told myself that meant trust.

I told myself that meant trust,

but later I woke to the sound of it—

But later I woke to the sound of it

(the lock giving, slow).

The lock giving, slow,

metal turning inside metal.

Metal turning inside metal

like it had been practiced.

Like it had been practiced,

like it knew the shape of your hand.

Like it knew the shape of your hand—

already under my shirt, pushing fabric up, not asking.

Not asking,

my body going still before I could name it.

Before I could name it, before I could move, before I could say anything at all.

Before I could say anything at all, like my body had always been something you could enter.

My body had always been something you could enter.

Because I left the key where you told me to.