I thought the sun would elude the strangers on the road from the show of staring my body as a baking cake.
It might be difficult for the strangers to open their heart rather than their zip of their naked breath to outmanoeuvre her as though she is the dough of bread required to be tested by all the passerby.
Oh!! Maybe my clothes are facade to invoke too many bees around my home or is it my beauty that I should lock inside the quiet veil of the graveyard.
I should tear off my freedom and romances in the dangerous revolutionary world because I don’t portray a lady as my thighs are breasts are the cherries displayed in the market
I should hush down now, or I will be the harlot hanging its voice in the billboard
My birth is maybe just a fortuity as I have to glow with your expensive flash of corrupted money and desire.
because I wanted the world to hold me tight mom and talk to me as I was tired of the hope where the gatekeeper locked me
So, I wear the corsets breaking my spine just satisfy your hungry and my vulnerability.
Alas, this what the generations of women society taught each other before going to the war.






















