Left overs
Phone calls from people, relics from a former life, and food from a former incarnation.
Satisfying and sad at the same time.
What happens when we become left overs in the lives of others? Are we savored, the last meaty marrow sucked from our souls? Or are we just discarded, fat and bones, twisted tendons - the foul memory of mold, decay and fermentation sanitized and rewritten into neat chapters, insipid and devoid of heady aromas?
Satisfying and sad at the same time.
What happens when we become left overs in the lives of others? Are we savored, the last meaty marrow sucked from our souls? Or are we just discarded, fat and bones, twisted tendons - the foul memory of mold, decay and fermentation sanitized and rewritten into neat chapters, insipid and devoid of heady aromas?
posted by ilana at 3:34 p.m.
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