Hymn of Vengeance X

My body went rigid. Thoughts and ideas flashed in and out of my mind’s focus before my mind became empty except of pure hot lust.

NO, my heart screamed.
YES, my body whispered even louder.

I didn’t notice until that moment that my shirt’s buttons had been undone. One of her fiery hands was quickly cooling its way into my pants. In a few seconds I would be past the point of no return. Her body had my mind, her hands had my body; but my faith was not from any of these. Just as her hands breached my waistband and singed my pubic hair, I caught both her and freed myself from her embrace getting up from the bed.

I didn’t turn around but kept my back to her. I didn’t trust myself to look at her without lusty result. Behind me, she said,

“You want the same comfort I want
But my pain compared is less blunt
Why is it that you still front?
Even now that you find the love you hunt?

I began to button my shirt and said,

“It isn’t just pain behind my door
Nor do I front when I withdraw
You possess unquestionable allure
But why replicate wrong the more?

With that I straightened and left the room regretfully. My ‘evil side’ chided me once again as I walked briskly to the reception while trying to relax my erection,

“Pure pleasure prevented poorly,
Secret savor silenced sorely,
Regret returns resisted rarely,
Composure comes calming queerly.

When I reached the receptionist, she was surprised to see me – judging from her expression. I was too subdued by my recent resistance to lash out at her for sending me to a prostitute’s room without my own consent or knowledge. Above her head, a clock said 02:40am.

I quietly spoke,

“Should I choose to await my host?
I will be transparent as a ghost;
Without warmth coveted by most,
I require a newer bed and post.”

She nodded grimly and replied after checking her computer,

“Your host will come within the morning,
Warmth must be shocked at your spurning.
Room 49 awaits your lodging
I hope you refrain from dodging.”

Again as I walked away, I frowned at the receptionist’s manners.

The valet who had shown me my previous room lay dozing on one of the couches in the waiting area. He was the only one there. He was awake as soon as I touched on the shoulder. A light sleeper, I thought. I felt oddly guilty as I said,

“Forgive my intrusion on your window of rest.
Even as I speak I feel myself a pest.
Perhaps we will meet again at dreamland’s gates
For in room 49 a new bed awaits.”

With exhaustion etched in his features, he silently led me to the room. He was not too tired however to squint demanding from me I sighed and explained to him,

“I truly have neither note nor the like presently
And I explain only that you don’t resent me.
But if you nurse your disappointment correctly,
The Founder will hear of you reverently.”

He managed to smile a little tired smile and walk away. I entered the room and closed the door behind me. It was illuminated briefly by my entrance and returned so as I closed the door, so I groped, found and flicked the light switch. I flicked it.

The room appeared empty. I sighed in relief and let myself fall on the bed. It was pleasant, to be lying down, resting, quietly. I let my eyes slid close and soaked in the moment. Peace.

No Dew, but peace.

Then I heard it.

Someone was sobbing close by. My eyes still closed, I listened intently. It was really close; like in the same room!
My eyes shot open and I sat up. The room still looked as empty as before. My ears pointed to the bathroom and I stood up, approaching it. As I came closer – slowly – the sobbing seemed to get louder. Finally I turned the doorknob and…

I found her.

She looked younger than the woman in the first room and more erotic. She sat in the shower with her clothes clinging wet to her frame. Her face was matted to the wall as sobbed softly with her eyes closed. She must not have been aiming for ‘erotic’.

She either did not notice my entrance or did not care. I stood transfixed for a moment before my surprise wore off and was replaced with pity.
Her short hair was drenched as were her clothes so I couldn’t tell if she was shivering from pain in her heart or just cold. I turned off the shower.
She still did not open her eyes. She sniffed loudly and continued to shiver. I stooped silently and touched her neck. It was cold. My heart went out to her. I sat down beside her.

I said,

“Speechless before my sorrow’s twin
    I sit beneath the question of a painful sin.
       Like flying fish, your gasping is a wonder.
       Drink peace, oh beauty and no longer ponder.

She opened them then. Big, brown, African eyes: if seduction was her intentions or business, men would buy and sell tickets to temptation.
She sniffed again and blinked, rapidly adjusting her reddened eyes to the light within the bathroom. She examined me and then herself, saying,

“I am hurt and now cold
And no warmer in these damp folds.
I know this request is too bold,
Allowed, I pray a few barred holds.

I did not understand her request. Was I too tired to understand or was she hurt to speak clearly? I got up and left the bathroom so she could take off her clothes. She still just sat there looking forlorn and pained. I went to the bed and sat down. After a while, she got up slowly and closed the bathroom door.

I was tired. I took of my shirt and pants – sleep ready. I laid in the bed and turned facing the door and away from the bathroom in an effort to fall asleep without thinking about the lady in there. What was she doing here? Who or what had caused the pain she showed? Would she tell me? Did I really care to know?

I snickered privately at that last thought. Lying in that bed, I was already feeling better; like a phone on low battery might feel when it is connected to its charger. I had almost already fallen asleep when she came out of the bathroom, towel-clad. I know because she went and checked the door, locked it. Then she came, lay on the bed and covered herself. For some reason I covered the same blanket.

She whispered throatily,

“Why do I suffer so? Why do my tears flow?
With an arm drawn close, with the other dealt a blow
When men say they love, is it all a live show?
Your thoughts on this, I really want to know.

For I give my soul, to the I adore
The fun I wrought was the stuff of lore
Yet beyond flesh he mauled and left me the whore.
My pride though torn from me he tore more.

I felt so bad for her. I turned to face her. Her tears shed anew had already begun to soak the pillow. I couldn’t bear it. I reached across and over her and switched off the light throwing the room into semi-darkness. The only light was coming from the corridor outside the door. I could smell the hotel shampoo she had washed her hair with, which mixed with her natural scent probably because she didn’t use much shampoo.
She was cold. Instinctively I held her and she did not push me away. For a moment, I let my warmth envelope her and felt the shudder of her tears. I whispered in – what I believed – comfort,

“Men are mostly blind as mute bats and imperfect.
They hardly know what is wise to protect.
It is his loss that he is without;
You, are worthy beyond a good doubt.

Her breath cascaded down my chest in steamy regular intervals as we cooked in a gentle embrace.

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