Spike

I see you in your spiked collar
heavy chain looped twice and dangling
between you and your owner.
You're sleek, dangerous muscle
Your owner struts beside you
his white tank stained with the
exertion of holding on.
He doesn't know what I know.
His daughter looks over at you,
sucks on her kool-aid bottle,
teeth all tarnished caps
She tweaks your ear and
you glance back, unconcerned.
She knows too.
You're borrowed power,
proof that this boy is the Man
better prize than a trophy wife–
less likely to bite.

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