My Mama said I should be blind, maintaining the image of my husband. But her words never perceived my understanding.
His bruises on my skin hurt me the most.
And my soul swells in silence as well.
Mama, he is tearing me apart.
Can't you hear me moaning? 
Can't you see the river of tears?
Sacrifice? What sacrifice?
Mama, the men's gods are deceased, and their corps are washed in the dead sea.
Obeying is a blind crime.
Love intends to create a space where two lovers can breathe the freedom.
Look at you Ma, look at you.