|| Indian Peregrination || by Ipsita Ganguli

Love Objectified

What if, You made love, an object to play with? A measure of sorts To equate your own self worth perhaps

What if, What you call love is just your gameplan, To toss around like a tennis ball flying across the net, So that the best may win.

What if, Your love was an object to bait An unsuspecting heart Wringing out its last drop of unadulterated emotion

Love objectified, Digitalised and Broken up Into a million meaningless analogs Coded for suitable conclusions

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