Say what of the houris in heaven
So lost in their elaborate dance
As they move, they weave in the air
Delights, like gales of thunderstorm
With a serene quiet, they witness
Sinners in eternal bliss
In heaven, forlics the self-righteous
Benefactor of God’s merciful whims
They lie with the maidens
So pleased with themselves
In their arms, they whisper
“By God, you’re the most beautiful one yet”
Habits of men, they still lie
Still cheat and still cry
The houri, the little maid of anguish
Smiles back, unsure and alone
How fates collude
Even in heaven, the houri is but a tool
To be used, mused and forgotten
Desire innate, for the righteous to have their lust placate
A DESI MUFFIN 