i am your woman in
ruby red silk sari with
gold thread-
i bear the mark of a
married woman high
on my forehead

for you i cook aromatic
spiced lamb-tender as
the light over morning
calcutta
yellow rice soft as a
painter's yellow ochre
on drying pallate

for hours i have watched
over slow rising flat bread
each  ****** of the heel
of my hand forming warm
dough into flat ovals

i bathe in the essence of
warm sandalwood and
the fruit smoke of incense

tonight i give to you the
secrets of womanflesh and
take you to me david
under white gauzy canopy
as the garden peacock
prims it's silken feathers
under the shadow of the
sundial-

tonight i am your temple
and the gods smile softly
with pleasure.            
                       ana christy