Holding it over my head, I made my whispered wishes and good-byes. I let go... and watched unblinking as it fell end over end in perfect circles until it hit the water below.

It emerged from the froth unharmed and whole. Except...

"Its rot. It was washed away." He said beside me, with the melancholy smile that farewells are built upon.

Seeds seeped like white ink from the hole that the rot had left into the water, spreading its tendrils. In short time, it was left hollow, left to the soulless virtue only a shell could possess; leaving in its departure all that it once contained to scatter and divide itself to the edges of whatever existence it found to take root.

I watched it in the black oil of the midnight stream until there was nothing left to see.

Inhaling, I closed my eyes and prayed for even one of those seeds to produce fruit, knowing I would never know if it had or not.

I inhale again - this time the thin, gray smoke of menthol 72's. Life has become so much more than I understood of it in the years that have passed. Let the open shell of this world hang nailed to the stars in metaphor. Acceptance dwells within.

Life is about good-byes.

Destroy Once Done