My scowl and
my piercing eyes are my weapons of choice
My clenched mouth,
my uninviting brows,
They are armour against the world,
armour in a world of catcalls and whistles
of uninvited appreciation of my body, my breasts, my legs
in their professional business skirt,
because a skirt is still a skirt,
and it has always carried a symbol,
a thought of a golden triangle between feminine legs, a thought of inferiority.
A stigma, an insult that a son passes to his son,
Professional or otherwise, a skirt is still a skirt.
And an uninviting ugly face becomes a weapon, a haven.
Against uninvited wandering eyes that talk to your chest and ass, instead of searching for your soul in your eyes.
Lydia Ralte describes herself as a "weirdly fun person. Proud Feminist. Awkward friend and loyal daughter." She recently completed her M.Phil. in English literature from Mizoram University, and was awarded an O for her thesis, and will probably go on to do her Ph.D. She has been writing poetry for several years.
my piercing eyes are my weapons of choice
My clenched mouth,
my uninviting brows,
They are armour against the world,
armour in a world of catcalls and whistles
of uninvited appreciation of my body, my breasts, my legs
in their professional business skirt,
because a skirt is still a skirt,
and it has always carried a symbol,
a thought of a golden triangle between feminine legs, a thought of inferiority.
A stigma, an insult that a son passes to his son,
Professional or otherwise, a skirt is still a skirt.
And an uninviting ugly face becomes a weapon, a haven.
Against uninvited wandering eyes that talk to your chest and ass, instead of searching for your soul in your eyes.
Lydia Ralte describes herself as a "weirdly fun person. Proud Feminist. Awkward friend and loyal daughter." She recently completed her M.Phil. in English literature from Mizoram University, and was awarded an O for her thesis, and will probably go on to do her Ph.D. She has been writing poetry for several years.
