The Sultana 7. Ode to a superb corpse

A ring of lust-cracked youths watch with helpless eyes,
swallowing again and again and ground their teeth-

as the lone scorpion scampers
over the nude form of the headless sultana: Sultan's majestic toy,
over the lecherous orifices where once tingled with the sultan's seeds

a fabled body so dangerous, with a moral of a cat in heat,
that would make men arouse full by her leisure gait

a coppery vision of loveliness, sculpted by decadence
with hashish covered nipples and
blushing flanks that seems half-divine
lush hips taut as a bulging drum, as if caught in a wag
legs splays in stunned need
Shivering in bouts of pure panic, fueled by adrenaline, 

borned to tempt, brewed to love, worthy of an emperor
whose loins she failed to sate
now unveils, in a lithe and frisky sprawl,
silk robes a ragged heap fought over by hounds

her shredded neck tightly envelops the shaft
coated with her royal gore

beneath her dead perfumed lashes
glazed eyes lazily lulls over her flaunting neck,
those sable eyelids still painted as if waiting for her lover
beneath, the summer breeze toys her sex stained hair
and from her soiled tongue, rolls forth white wads of maggots
or was it the sultan’s lingering lust?

The youths, stalk the body in a clamoring swirl
ogles the promiscuous pile in all its glory,
watches as legion of ants stream through her honey coated slits
and loathes their manly forms. But at least they know
they have been fortunate enough
to gaze upon the devil’s new concubine.