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I Am a Women, I Recognize the Intent of Every Man's Touch

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I am a woman

I recognize the intent of every man's touch
And feel free to explain every touch
Such is not the situation in my country, I will have to speak.
Today, I feel free to explain those touches.

Baba kissing my top
When praised my successes,
That touch was his assurance to me,
That touch was complete with my gratitude to him,
That touch was the basis of hope in both of us,
That touch was an attachment, a loyalty, a harmony.
Yes ! I support this touch.

When I left Babylon's house, my brother cried,
Leave me home, I did not know how many nights I slept,
Tightly hugged me, said be happy.
I was safe with that touch,
There was so much satisfaction in that touch,
There was no hypocrisy in that touch,
There was so much devotion in that touch.
Yes ! I accept such a touch every birth.

I also know my husband's touch,
That touch has the dedication of a lifetime,
That touch has affection, love,
That touch has a beauty, a bond of love,
Not just touch for me,
It is competitive.
And I am eager for this touch,
Yes ! I approve of this touch.

I also know my lover's touch,
Which may not have surrender,
In which jug's feelings have to be endured
But that touch is worth
That touch is love, love is love,
Longing, thankfulness,
And I'm distraught for that touch,
Yes ! I approve of this touch.

Some shoulders are also for crying
Which belongs to neither my Baba nor brother
There are also hands that wipe some tears
Which neither belong to my husband nor belong to my lover,
I have some friends who are men but
I am well aware of his touch,
There is a respect for his touch,
Those touches are hospitality, respect,
Those touches have a scope,
Those touches know their limits,
Yes ! I agree to touch such friends.

But it does not end here,
There are some touches
Which I never approved,
Some touches were not even by hand,
But with the touch of his vision,
I found myself naked,
That touch did not belong to my Baba, nor to my brother,
That touch was neither to my master, nor to my loved ones,
He was never a stranger to touch,
Sometimes nearby,
That touch was not a touch,
That touch was the question when I was born a woman,
Because that touch, not touch, was a shock to my existence,
That touch was a blow to get a female body,
That touch was disgusting,

I get distracted by that touch,
I break with that touch.
The touch that compels, forces,
The touch in which helplessness is binding.
The touch that I get without my permission, consent, acceptance,
I get fragmented by that touch.

I am a woman
I recognize the intent of every man's touch.