An armful of love abandoned on the sidewalk like garbage, the same bundle we held precious, soft and sacred as a baby. Memories consumed and discarded like empty cans and boxes, spoiled fruit and vegetables, of no use to anyone. The air smells foul, reminiscent of wasted words and futile attempts. Flies circle and land on the remains like tiny vultures, anxious for the last sticky taste. But soon, they too have had enough of what was once us.
