Who am I if my hips don’t break for your lives? I took a vow against my wall before my first breath ,
devoting myself to your feverish ideology of the suppression
you disguised in honey and petals I am favored but shunned if I take pride in it
I am desired but dishonored if I act on it I have burnt my tongue with muffled pleads
that scarred my forbidden roars You ask me who am I ? My name is woman
With my eyes glancing down and my arms hugging my hips I think; here lies my morals and values but is it not mine to take pleasure in? Am breaking vows of chastity my tongue does not recognize?
From soul-thieving tongues that leave blows to loins, words shoot out like sharp daggers as I pass the salt or rearrange the flowers. My father speaks while my brother nods; my mother turns a blind eye while I'm being left in the dark. We have excused ourselves from the dinner table, but the words keep repeating like a broken record.
