Expiate: The wherewithal.

The borders in your imagination…

The uncle in the opposite house spits. Always . It’s a vile gesture directed at me.

I can’t live with it. This is my space.

I once spat back. I smelt blood on everyone’s head. Felt a burning on my skin. Know what it’s like.

Can’t take it no more.

but , she swore.

“!”

 

 

 

click on the exclamation mark.

in response to the Mumbai New Year’s Eve Harassment case.Joining the collective action and debates at Blank Noise.

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But, as always, I’m left wondering why my posts to Blank Noise remain sadly either rejected or ignored by the collective. Somehow, the answers are not forthcoming. Answers, anyone?