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One by one the men in line take
turns, mount up, grunt / groan / ejaculate, then abandon the blindfolded woman lying supine, legs-arms
pinned, spread out on a block of excavated marble, once
an altar, now a slab, on which the wounds from
commandeered loins weep gore and ill-spent semen.
He rapes last who staged the bestial crime, devised
its violations, demands now she be turned, lain
prone, her nose and cheekbone flat, her buttocks
hoisted, pried apart by thumbs intent on abject malice,
for the worst humiliation yet in store. Disdaining her
vagina, Ahmed wrestles off his drawers, aligns his
phallus with her puckered anus, thrusts,
takes hold her hair, rips off the blindfold—muscles
twitching, as he humps and pumps, convulsing, as he
spits the word "TAHOUTI" (AGENT OF SATAN) in her
face, dropped then onto the slab in mortified
disgrace.
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