Fate

Sip by sip I drink cold unsweetened tea from the glass: the cracked, chipped-rimmed, hundred-year-old glass. From beside the curtain I see the sky. Bad luck! The moon in Scorpio! Again tonight they will take me away. Again tonight until dawn they will demand that I deny you. Again tonight they will demand that I confess: I am Iblis. We are Iblis! You wrap your soft white wings around me, around your body within my body: beneath the striped chintz shirt you hide yourself. Me: again tonight…