Tuesday 24 October 2017


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.

First published in The Wire, 6 June 2017.

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