Another Man’s Trash

Another Man's Trash

From whence has it traveled to rest there amongst the shells and the sands, floating upon time unknown to it? Who once breathed their hot breaths into its spout, savoring the sticky cool sweetness upon lips that spoke other words as mundane? Whose hands held its icy exterior dripped in sweat as the sun shone that day, as it did upon every other day, …as it did today. The skin once soft and supple now worn by its own decay might envy this metal, unaffected by change.

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