Flying, finally

That room       end of the line
no exit and no turns
the light at the tunnel

Those sounds,
mewls, cries whimpers, groans
Those sounds,
Silent whispers through the air,
                cutting like a knife,
and more like a cane,

animal hides coursing
then striking
Welts , stripes, raised lines
                lay back and taking as she is

the Voice alone,
holding,
the sounds alone,
claiming.
her eyes locked on his face,
that expression transfixing,
a doe caught in the glare

she will never move
not when the lines drip,
not when the strikes
turn to soft splats
as the leather opens the inner

and why should she?
is that what He wants?
or what she needs?
Neither feeds alone,
each off the other.

skies, turning as the whorls of her mind,
mute and  locked,
open slightly fill the air,
rent the ether.
Fly gloriously, finally