On a Sunday evening
she noticed mold growing
within the divots and cracks
of this old rotted thing—
plucked from her chest
by her own hand
she buried it in the trash
alongside burnt letters
and bad eggs,
muttering to herself
that it was too rancid
to keep.
© Nancy Botta, 2018
Rusted Honey 
again your words are perfectly put.
LikeLiked by 2 people
thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
SO so good!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Damn, you are gifted dear.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you!
LikeLike
how heart-polluting love can be
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s a time to live, a time to die, a time to keep, a time to throw away. The key is to throw away before it rots! Ah, yes, I need to do refrigerator duty today!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love your work honey, we should connect
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow loved your writing
LikeLiked by 1 person
My son once left his very expensive dental retainer in cup on the table at a Cub Scout breakfast banquet and it got thrown out. My wife and son and I went through the dumpster at the church for an hour before we found it. It is amazing how disgusting the left over sausage and syrup from sweet little Cub Scouts can become when left to simmer in dark place in the Southern sun for a mere hour. But it was worth it when we found it. We rinsed and sanitized it real good before he used it again. Hope she finds her heart. Beautifully descriptive piece. 🙋🏻♀️
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love how the word “thing” sizzles. Incredible!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my goodness, the sublime use of words to creat a powerful image.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very creative posst
LikeLike