Rust
  by Sabreena Ahmed

They emerge on
The triangular iron chunk
Like fish scales;
Rough, grizzled, brownish-red
As if someone has scratched a wound on the skin.
They grow harder to devour
The silvery coldness from outside,
or does it gnaw away from within?
Till some warm, frothing lubricant
Gushes all over,
Seeping in life-
Deep and deeper inside.   

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