If I fall asleep in drowsy afternoon I
May wake to crying birds
In distance. Can you tell me
When he comes?
Even as I slip into empty sideroads there is no
Trepidation. To fear the devil
Is not to know him.
When this side of earth
Is turned upside down there is no
Prophecy that could have foretold.
Lemon loaves spell quaint fragrance.
Up ahead on plastic chair
Sits he, with secreted countenance.
Devils lunged down to hell, chained weights
pull them up, to mortals’ level

What lures me to sit across
If not evening lull heavy with unspoken
Words?
If I sip cold tea of peach and milk
Offered by his tipped hat
Will the eye of heaven resent?
This is an encounter with the devil!
Do you hear fervour in my heart? Heed not to
Apprehension and dread. Listen not to wailing maidens.
Certainly, curiosity kills the cat
However, satisfaction brings it back.

With moon dipped in dark-smeared sky,
Lips of the devil part.
Subdued, tender tones of speech
Does this devil carry, like summer breeze without its warmth.
High mannerisms
Of a gentleman.

The devil’s tongue seduces the soul

In my blood he smells mortality
Filth of cursed human.
Hidden
Derision dances on his tongue.
To he who has fallen from realm of divine,
And now sits on throne of Hell,
Flickering mortals’ life is
Belittled.
Yet this demon sits to ponder tenets of a Lover
Amused and captivated by stories
Of innocent hope.
Glassy eyes of full fervour and zeal.
Good words will move a heart
Be it a beating one’s or not.

Trembles release their unyielding clasp on my words
There is no longer hesitation in my speech
The night is long!
Tender devil, delicate devil,
He is partial to Lovers,
To Preachers.
But beware–
Fiery embers still kindle in his hollows.
The devil dares not deign
Enough to befriend a mortal
Blood tingles in my veins, will it not spill?
The suspense! O, the gamble!
I continue to speak.

Past midnight when moon is high
The devil speaks again
This time he pleads not a storyteller but rather
A listener
He is partial to listeners.
And so I listen.
His words are alien, other-worldly
He speaks of timeless paths,
Of great things.
Things a mere mortal cannot fathom

I finish my tea and there is no more.
He bids me farewell and for my return.
Tired and drowsy
I return to my sheets, lying in between them.
I hear loud pulsations, pounding
in my chest.
I have tasted near death,
I have encountered the devil.

Yet sleep seems to come easy.
I slip into dream
Half-conscious as I
Pass from reality to dream
From dream to another dream

I dream of the devil.
He is elegant and defines grace.
He meets my gaze.
Under his low dipped hat
is a gentle face
Then he thrusts his hand to my chest,
Through it and takes
My heart.
The devil seduced me to sin
To sin of trusting the devil.

Is it not that cats have nine lives?

.    .    .