Martyred curse...

My eyes are coated my heart is silent yet the echo is deafening

My body is battered my soul is suppressed yet I survive to tell my ordeal

I look for answers…I find none…as to why I was, still am invariably the martyred victim

Why am I violated, why am I traded, why am I killed…a ‘why’ that has haunted me for centuries

Is it the female structure blessed to give birth or is it the bosom from where flows the fountain of love that arouses a beast in him

Why the enigma of being worshiped in contour yet abused in sensibility

My search for identity unravels my perilous journey which is fraught with his atrocities

He is mine…my flesh and blood, a fact he couldn't realize

I live, slaving away my visibly invisible role with a cosmic curse when it will be just him!

Draped in Dawn

Draped in dawn
With pots in hand
She walked miles
Towards the small pond

Where she let her pots sail
While she casually undraped herself
To perform her rituals

Camouflaged behind the trees,
Eyes glued to the expectant scene
I waited with baited breathe

Savouring the flimsiness
Of the tribal beauty
As she revealed more
Than she concealed

When the water stroked her greedily
Slurping her fissures
I stood green
With envy

When the tautness of her ripe breasts displayed their magnificence
As she played with the lotuses
My libido raged

Blissfully sanguine,
Her mahogany skin shining
As she waded out of the water
Draped in rawness
Our eyes met
Unmasked finally

As the blush deepened her skin,
Modestly she tried to cover
With a smiling tinge

Emboldened, I raced across
Taking her without resistance
By the velvety algae

Draped in dawn
She returned that day
And still returns to me
Till we embrace dusk.

©LR