Buried Alive

Another rushed day...

Stumbling through bylanes, 

I bump into her.

Her fawn heels

Catch my eye.

Chic! Glancing up

I'm besieged by a black tent.

Dark, brooding, ominous.

A green gaze from dark slits

Wilt me down.

Covers part

Ripped jeans

Peep at my perplexity. 

Days later

I'm still bemused. 

What thing of beauty

Was hidden behind that dark garb?

What dreams, hopes,

Smoldering inside, chafing at the covers?

The desire for admiration, 

Exhilaration to soar 

In the enchanting evening,

Breathe free 

From the shackles of chauvinism?

To scream 

And be seen!

A wonder of creation,

Wounded, bleeding, repressed,

Stifled in her dungeon for life.

Antigone. Today.