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satyricon
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how an observer might have perceived my glee at "corrupting" a pair of pretty, innocent Jehova's Witnesses who came a-calling on a long-ago warm saturday morning in late spring as i was working on my roof
wea argued about the will of god and the fate of man
we argued about free will and predestination
we discussed the divide between pleasure and piety
one got nervous and left, her crusading companion glared at me with contempt, never daring to breach the argument
months later, a chance encounter at a night club found the one who glared at me sending me out of her bed and back into the ocean of night, confessing to me in lieu of a tender afterglow that neither her nor her friend were sure whether they should curse me or thank me for what i had put in their heads
the look in her eyes alternating rank contempt and incendiary desire
sporadically, we would re-enact the scenario through that winter
and every time the same conflicted look
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