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  • Third Culture Matters
  • PoetryPrompt-Mslexia


    First I found a lid.


    didn’t know it was a lid for a gun case.


    I didn’t know he had stashed it away on a shelf

    at the back of the cellar

    in a styrofoam


     the damp

    flavor of earthy potatoes

    devours the crispy smell of metal,


    But there it lay, unused, glinting –

    How gently it sinks into the palm of my hand

    a muffled clink like my torn off pendant landing at the floor of the pool.

    Fingers fold in rebound

    there is power in this cold

    sweet, sweet rust

    This was my chance.




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