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  • Aiza Nadeem

Aluminum on a dish that’s already gone cold

Sometimes, as gray as the eyepiece

of a telescope lens, useful in several ways.

The metal button on pants.

And others, driven over snow,

as each passing car paints

me into a shade darker than

the bright color I once was.

A picture without saturation.

I am gallium, just the warmth of

a gentle touch can melt me.

I am a dime, worth something

but once I get lost in the couch,

no effort would be made to take me out—

just a forgotten coin.

A stainless steel knife slowly going dull.

The ash of a cigarette, fading away.


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