Sisters

From the day you are born,

with lungs fit to rattle the mores,

skin shriveled and covered in womb,

mother’s eyes fight to stave off the night

 for you being blessed as a girl.

In this world of inequality–devalued,

in pockets of depravity– misused.

Under their gaze–misconstrued, but

the joke is on them, for 

you are a wolf under sheepskin.

We travel the lands in a pack 
to hunt, to nurture, to survive.

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