Touches Divine

in skirts fringed with tiny bells, tinkling to swaying hips
twinkles from bronze and silver anklets  
an entry, almost a dance
she entered, the bobolian

she looked too young for knowledge
too soft to deliver her edge
her fingers too gentle to administer potions
her dark eyes seductively divine

her first words swept the room in pheromones
each man reacted under their loincloth
stirred half-mast and some in full attention
women stirred in apprehension
lips swelled glistened and dewed

will death be bestowed upon the guilty
will purgatory be his home before death
or will he live to see delights
he couldn't touch or ever indulge

she spoke harsh words with soft seductive voice
they listened to her words
like soft rain on bamboo leaves
caressing their senses
taking them to exquisite pleasure

she swayed before them
twin spirit embracing her
as she cast the death spell on the enemy

they watched enchanted
until her incantations ceased
she stood still and the tinkling bells grew silent

the people sighed
thoughts of white sheets
with virgin blood
went through their mind

collapsed tents of loincloths and dewy lips
were the mementos of the night
as she left