|| 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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