I am O so tender!: A poem 

The wind wraps around my naked ankles 

Not the waves, they have seaweed in tangles 

I crunch the sands with toes, inhale a puff 

I am counting the days of seasons, it can be rough 

I take another whiff of the cigarette, blow it out 

I see the dogs play with the tide, racing in and out 

They have innocence in their guts, joy in their girths 

We have laughter in our bellies, but do we share their mirth? 

I pick some sand from the floor, fling it into the sea 

Am I solemn or placid? I feel my breasts are a tree 

Culture, heritage, morals, dignity, parents’ legacy 

Will they serve my purpose? Am I imprisoned to be free? 

I’m asked to wade the pools between jagged rocks bare feet 

I sadly decline saying my feet are tender, and hastily retreat 

So tender am I that I can’t even miss a single heartbeat 

Yet when prospect calls, I’ll skip it in a moment’s fleet