Stay strong, Ukraine.

All day my eyes sting.
As if I had chopped a kilogram of onions.
All day a lump “sits” in my throat.
As if I had caught a cold in the late winter winds.
All day it grips the left side of my chest.
As if someone had pinched my heart with a clothes peg.

All these ailments aren’t about me.
They’re about the one from whom SOMETHING DEAR IS BEING RIPPED AWAY.

Stay strong, Ukraine—an insane amount of our collective thoughts and feelings are flying toward you.
We’ve contributed.
Contribute however you can, too.

V.