She

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…