Jain uses a white piece of paper to scoop small
lovebugs, like black and red specs on snow,
from the hood of her earth green
Grand Cherokee. She purses her lips,
as if to kiss, and blows, waiting for them
to float on her breath and fly before going
back to repeat her ritual. She takes more time
with those that are coupled. Interconnected.
Every life is precious. She cannot
eat or harm another living being.
Yet, a dark man hangs on me like we
are conjoined twins; I, living; he, dead, fluttering
and flopping around. I drag him and he lumbers
along, drenching neck-high in red
when I eat. He chokes and drowns
thousands to quench my thirst.
When I breathe, millions die.
He lays massacres in my wake.
–Art by Petra
–Art by NiiCoLaZz