On Femininity


Riti Kumar

Bring me up on stage,
Shape me, mould me,
Eat me, tear me to pieces,
Cast me into stones and
Paste my image onto
The pillars of your aesthetic realms.

 Still
I am not your deity.
I don’t shine.
Blemished, scarred
I have stains of experience
Riding upon my flesh.
I am not a flower
That would bloom upon your gaze,
Nor am I a delicate petal, I wouldn’t tear so easy.
I am none of those things
That your musings would turn me to.
Bring me up on stage or
Cast me into stones as much as you want.
The raging horror if I overstep the terrains
Marked out for me,
I am not.
I am none of those things;
Not a thing –
Much more, much less; Nonetheless
I am a woman
Just like you are a man.
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