Her tear would get a pass
Through your heart
If she cracked it well enough.
But no, she wouldn’t,
Lest it would change you.

The dewdrop on her cheek
Is a passive adornment for you,
Never seen in real light,
Never wiped by your finger,
Lest it would be real.

The pain in her bosom
Is a poetic fiction of sorts,
Read not even for fun,
And never opened to,
Lest it becomes tangible.

She is the blazing sun
That can hold it all,
Yet rise and shine everyday,
Yet don’t let you touch her core,
Lest you burn yourself…

© Sana Rose 2016

9 thoughts on “Lest…

  1. Sunil Sharma

    Silent womanhood— especially Indian/Asian variety—defined for a media-society that never tires of talking of rights but ignores such little narratives/stories because they lack good TRPs.
    Poem with a human heart!

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