Aman 12

Ligature of Language

They say “gentle” before “man”
as if softness must be stapled
to power to make it palatable.
As if the fist, once gloved, is no longer a fist.

They say “strong” before “woman”
as if endurance must be embroidered
onto flesh to make it forgivable.
As if the cleft, once crowned, is no longer a cleft.

Adjectives are corsets-
the ligature of language,
cinching identity until it fits,
the silhouette of acceptability.
A strangulation ritual
masquerading as grammar.

Let the noun speak- naked.