She is the most feminine
During her loneliness
Wiping her tears off her cheeks
Casually dancing to the music of her belief
The belief to rise
After many dungeons fall
She is herself
Only, when no one’s home
Braless, unruly hair tied in a bun
Sipping the lukewarm tea
Sighs deeply
while doing her zillion chores
She is the most womanly
during her menstrual flux
Swinging herself every month
Through the doors of fire and piety
Her emotions heightened
Her courage daunting
When she falls
Only to rise again…
