U, I Didn’t

I waited for the day someone would ask me my number

Until the state did, and I smirked,

“I know you’ve used that line on a million others.”

At that it should have left,

But it persisted,

Insisted it would give me one

If I did not have one of my own

It didn’t take no for an answer,

And now I have fingerprints instead of handholding,

Iris scans, while I wait to be seen,

At least I would be safe, I tried to tell myself,

Until yesterday, when I found myself exposed

Every single digit of me, up for sale as data porn.

Poem by Ankita Anand

Recited by Ila Joshi