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A poet once said:
grief is the overflowing of love.
I didn't believe her then.

But now as I pour my love,
In to your tea cup heart,
It overflows.

Pints... no,
Gallons.
Gallons of my love onto the floor.
It goes unnoticed,
Because your cup is full.

I wish I could give you all my love.
I wish you could accept it.
I wish it didn't hurt to watch it overflow.
I wish above all,
I knew how to stop pouring.
~
Precious Padma
You dearest aquatic flower
You grew in murky waters
Unblemished by its impurity
But come they did
To ****** your petals
And leave you a burning stem
Never can they take from you
The spirit of your plainsong
It continues to grow in your sisters
And in a time and season so near
They will sing your hymn
As one substantial voice
The changing winds will then
Lift it higher

~
On Thursday, December 5, 2019, a 23-year-old **** victim from Unnao, India was seized by five men, including the two people she had named in her previous complaint to the police, and beaten, stabbed and set on fire. Still ablaze, she walked nearly a mile, seeking help before finally calling the police herself. She later died in a New Delhi hospital, prompting protests of violence against women.

— The End —