Pray for Your Enemies

I only beheld her at first.
Something irridescent fired
in her eyes.

She was beautiful.
Her hair a wild wind in the desert.
The blush of her lips
a pale and glistening salmon.

An envious admiration
rises in my cheeks. 
No, beauty is more than skin deep.
Can one appear so holy
and exist so blasphemous?

Contempt charcoals her eyes.
Sarcasm crookens her smile.

I attempt a greeting
A wishful endeavour.
The reflective mirror of her charcoal
flings an insult from under
silky innocent lashes.

I am at odds with myself.
An object of admiration
the epitome of my despite.

Pray for your enemies.

In surrender I kneel.
"God, make her as lovely
on the inside as
her outside appears."

She walks high like a queen.
A trail of servants attending
and worshipping her through
the high school hallways.

I bow in recreance
and pray again.

I hear today she made public example
of an social neophyte.                      

Some poor new kid
had braved an audience
of casual banter with the queen.                                                                          He should have known better.

I fall feverishly to the floor.
Pearls of seat adorn my forehead.
Quivering in restraint
I pray in beggary
my rehearsed lines.

Wait here she comes. 
She is my Venus of Urbino,
Cleopatra of the Nile,
Queen of the Underworld.

As she brushes past
I put a hand on her.
My other hand fondles
the raw shaft
of an unseen assassin.

"Tara," I grin.
"don't forget to vote
for me, Prom Queen."
Roguely I cock my head.

An expression of outrage melts
across her countenance.
She opens her mouth and
a thousand imps make ready to
launch their assault.

But before she can say anything
a stifled cry leaks from deep
within her gullet and
expires on her lips.

The shaft plunges in the
ocean of her innards
and slithers upwards to her sternum.

Her reflective charcoal eyes
sink inward in anguish
and her body surrenders to gravity.

Her beautiful golden locks
spin around her as she falls.
Her organs streaming forth
escaping from her unholy womb,
glistening and shimmering
a pale rose intensity.

Her red blood luminous and brilliant
against the pallid hue of her skin.

I see it now.  My prayers are answered.
God, she is beautiful.