(written for a one word prompt on a slip of paper at my old writing group.)

 

Aluminium.

Strong but light

Not like iron

Nor even stainless steel.

 

Aluminium;

It’s the modern metal.

Should we (and could we) imagine

A world made out

Of aluminium?

 

Or would that be fooling ourselves?

Like cheating in chess and

hoping the judging computer

Won’t catch you.

(You know it will.

It’s aluminium after all).

 

Nothing can be perfect.

Or rather,

there’s a perfect we can never recreate for ourselves.

With ourselves.

From our selves.

 

We aren’t aluminium.

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