An Ode to Maya

If India were to read this..she'd raise her brow and say, "D, this isn't an ode.. it's not in appreciation of Maya." (Well.. that would certainly be tough).. but i can't very well call this a sonnet (more than 14 lines i'm afraid), an elegy, a metaphysical poem, etc.
So it's in appreciation of a interesting conversation on a pleasant afternoon.

The ball glittered and swelled,
with jewels on breasts and veils on show,
fantastic masks birthing fantastic eyes
A Peacock, a Harlequin, a Whore.

Golden liquid and red bubbled,
kings and queens were laid flat on stone,
white gowns got painted leafy green,
And birds of prey stalked the floor.

There a Highwayman grabbed a Goddess,
and there a Vixen smiled at a joke,
glasses may have clinked and raised a din,
the chandelier splintered on secret doors.

But a woman in white, or sea green, or was it red?
in a mask of gold, or silver, or black?
Sat in a corner and looked about,
not a wallflower, not a showgirl,
just Ego willing to wait it out.

So still she sat, so still,
how long she would have stayed,
it cannot be told.
but then there was a diversion.. a shout
and in that moment it was red she glowed.

She turned her eyes and watched a man,
beautiful and compelling, dressed in flesh,
eating and drinking and kissing with fervor,
Filling his appetites to the core.

Her body loosened as he sipped women and wine,
warming her with glances from slanted eyes,
and when she moved with a need for drink,
he smiled a slow sly smile.

she moved past columns,
pedastal now empty,
carried forth by a force
of little doubt.

the goblet gleamed in her feverish eye,
her graceful hand reached out,
almost touched the amethyst crystal
but instead stroked a thin mouth.

Like a cold gleam, blinding
in a flash she looked white.

The flush in her senses
quietened and quenched,
the strength to build walls
and a different hunger spread.

this man was elegant,
patrician and sharp,
he beckoned with his mind
and broke her apart.

still again, she stood
torn between the two,
beguiled and tempted,
commanded with reason,
indulgence and abstinence
a dance that wasn't new.

But now it was her turn,
her tune and her power,
the men wait for release
and Ego sways about.