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.