Valentine's Day, 2021
The spilled ink on my paper takes the shape of dissents spreads itself to morph into the cries of protesting farmers flows down to form the face of a girl, much younger to me, arrested for nothing, really circles around to draw a clock that's slowly ticking to count the hours before someone in an arm's reach is dragged out of their house for nothing, really. God! I'm 23 and it's Valentine's I had honestly sat down to write about love.