By Shahrazad
Date: 7 October 1998

services rendered

your words, dull vibrations
that send ripples through a pool of worry
your touch, a streak of flame
that consumes desire and stokes the embers of bitterness
your eyes, accusations
that decry my treachery and demand appeasement 

your breath, a damp heat
that fails to bead my withered flesh with moisture
your cry, a call of triumph
that crowns your bloodstained conquest
your whispers, shreds of nothingness
that float before the ceiling, heaven's barricade