Sherbet

Swarthy mortals from the north,
Sun-cracked and dry-mouthed.
"Our queen is unblemished.
Her litter smells of lilac,
Contains a peach-colored girl."
Her lithe arm through the curtains,
Fair-skinned Goddess
Carried by two Mamelukes
(Exchanged for wicker and grain)
Panting like animals.
One thinks of the east.
There's sherbet in the east,
Dark language from their guts,
Moping, dewy leaves.
Emirs languish in their sumptuous shade,
Semi-divine, half-asleep.
They tense their mortal tendons.
Grit their brittle teeth.
There's sherbet in the east.