happy women’s day
on a chilly winter evening
she gets out of her car
and rushes into the beauty parlour
welcome to fantasia
the xanadu of senses
‘take off your bra’ the lady at the parlour
commands and proceeds to apply
as she dims the lights
a gooey mix of cream and herbs
on her sinuous face and swelling breasts
it’s facial time of course
soon the lissom lady’s deft hands envelop
her breasts she could feel her nipples harden
a squeeze here and a squeeze there
and her resolve weakens
she finds herself alternating
between morbidity violation and delight
while the beautician’s aching body
reaches out for her butt
she is lost
and stiff and unable to react
a part of her lustrous an inner glow
that comes from a healing touch
meanwhile the beautician seems
to be in a faraway world free
her body is not the only thing that aches
her husband beats her night after night
and rapes her soul
so in her private little workplace
the watering hole for her battered soul
and bruised body
she reaches out for the comforting touch
an attempt to negate the man
to banish him from her sordid world
for those few uplifting moments
and the socialite with a shining black
chevrolet just lies and bears it
for the sake of female bonding
somewhere in between twists the truth
a trifle moist but truth nevertheless
of a yearning unfulfilled
a life unloved
(4 March 2005)
