I cease to be when I walk through the door
in the uniform that proclaimed my turn
as the handmaid of customer’s desires.
My body snaked among the hungry crowd
to bring offerings to my demi gods
lost in their worlds hidden in the sound
of tinkling silver and conversation,
while I hide in the secret spaces of my soul.
Do they see me separate from the role
that blends me with the rhythm of this hall?
The aroma of food rose like incense
appeasing most appetites but the hottest
of passions. While they indulge their senses,
I suppressed my own until the hour
when I can be one with myself again.
For MAGPIE TALES.