‘ Perhaps it’s my top,’ she thought and pulled it once more for the neckline to seem closer,
‘ Could it be my hair?’ She tamed a few strays and tied her loose hair into a tight pony,
‘Is it my jean clad bulging thighs?’ She placed her bag on her lap to ensure it was covered,
‘ Maybe I should’ve toned down my lipstick,’ she regretted and wiped the lipstick off her lips with a tissue,
‘ Avoid eye contact,’ her mind whispered and she gazed outside the window of the chugging train,
‘Is it this, is it that, is it because I giggle a lot, or is it the way I talk?’…
Why should a commute in the public train be so harrowing?
The male gaze that shamelessly followed seemed so daunting,
‘Her’ mind responded and acted in ways unexplainable,
Dictating to hide every harmless body part that was visible,
A commute is far from pleasure when eyes stalk with a lewd intent,
If only such eyes could be gouged out for all the needless torment.

***