Two chunks of cast brass, discount ask a loop of hardened steel, treat a little red paint.
An amulet against burglary. A barrier against the night.
Put it in your magpie’s hoard. Slip it into your boxing glove. Clamp it through the hasp of your Navy trunk and lose the key, prostate dooming yourself to a 10-minute round of cursing and destroying the hasp with a hatchet until you stagger back, winded and sweating, and wondering “What was that all about?”
Who knew there was an entire collection of videos dedicated to picking the things?
Such a meaty weight, the brass warms in your hand as you heft it, and try to imagine its past.
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