Before I was known, before the world knew I had a name -I had none actually, the world gave me a name; Uriah’s wife, who slept with king David. My name is a long sentence you may consider delicious. Is sad how a single action would be all you’re known for.
Nothing also would have been known of my family, yes. If I hadn’t married Uriah -you wouldn’t have known I existed. We hid on the footer of your Bible text,behind the thick set lines running across it -waiting to be read, till our lives intertwined with the kings’.
Uriah came and made me known. Like a flower withering on the road, Uriah plucked me and told me I was a flower. Told me I had petals that could draw and halt any stranger even the king. Uriah smooth and delicate as a raindrop climbed my petals and sniffed my pollen, he gave me form. Then I knew like every other flower I would blossom. But with the harsh advances of sun. David became the burning sun.
He usually would sit in the veranda of his palace at night and listen to the peace he had brought for his people. David loved, after his God, his people so much. He would stay up late at night and listen to his people’s groans, their nightmares, the restless silhouettes in the tents and heal them of it, the next day. That was why his men fought in any battle he told them to. None questioned his decision. Not even Joab, his army commander, when he received word to let my husband Uriah be killed. This wasn’t the plan…
That night, when it all started. I wanted the sun to behold his moon, I wanted him to see my pale skin, smooth like snow and burning bright like a florescent bulb. I took the Lather and began with my nipple, the soap running down midsection in a thin soapy stretched line. The rainbow mixture casting a mystic aura, round my skin.
I knew I had captured his attention when debris from his stone palace came crashing down and a place guard beckoning; “My king are you alright?” He nearly fell of, while watching me. What a tragedy it would’ve been if I had killed the king of Israel. His guards came knocking soon after…
I got to his room, it was rushed over, items at odd place -quickly arranged, not fitting where the were. I go to the window, and imagine him, clinched to the wall watching, watching pebbles of smooth water rundown my skin…did he bite down his lips or just looked away, afraid God may punish him?
The door creaked open, David walked in and then made to walk out -he was unsure.
“His highness” I beckon, and bow. “Oh no, this is my bedroom dear lady not my court. you are a guest” he said coolly and, sensing a bit of awkwardness looked down -I wasn’t entirely a guest, guests are invited or better still come on their own free will. He didn’t know however, the later was the case.
I got close to him, he stuttered, David is brave -in battle and kissed him slowly, and when he opened up, I got inside him. I ignited him, felt his sun-rays point southward. The room became a minuscule of sparks and shouts, of cries and rays. David is a warrior.
What about your husband he asked? When guilt had rushed back like blood in a vein held. Don’t worry about him I said, I wanted this, you didn’t force me, I brought you to me. His eyes sparkled with admiration, like the reflection of the stars on the flat eager surface of a stream. Don’t worry he wouldn’t know, I said and ran my fingers on his permed hair. He was afraid, he felt scared. I had to assure him.
This I hoped, till God planted a see in my womb and Uriah refused to water the seed. For the fist time a man rejected me, my dear husband Uriah. And I wonder, would Uriah have served as a better king? -a soldier who dare not sleep with his wife while his men fought at the battle field than David, who made sure his soldier’s wife lacked nothing? Did God love Uriah more at that moment than he did his precious David? Whom we (Uriah and I) were brought into existence? Or is it the other way round? Were we (I and David) brought into existence to make sure Uriah died?
I felt pressure on my hand, it was Davids, he asked; What’s on your mind…Dear Sheba?
I smile and I would remark; How it is, that God punished David by killing his Son,