THIS IS A POEM WRITTEN BY NINA ESTRADA-PUYAT.
I shall not yield although he storms my castle.
I shall not kiss him back although I tear
My heart. I shall note let sound of his pestle
Pounding at my soul break through the mask I wear,
Betray the frigid treachery I dare.
I shall not let his seeking hands caress me.
He shall not touch this jet-black hair that is mine.
He shall not see the prayer of eyes misty
With hunger, beggared yet unpleading, nor find
The initiated breasts' pubescent line.
The moon will set, but he and I will never
Know each other. Chained to a vow once made,
In numb despair I shall deny him answer
And turn away: virtuous, pure and . . . dead.
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