for salvage.
And the slippery lickery mercury cool slideroll of the word flashed a grin.
Rescue, retain, restore, recover, save, retrieve those objects that are not yours as though they were once yours, as though they are now yours, saved, preserved, restored. Set in glass. Colour tinted in resin. Lifelike in amber. Precious redgolden and rare. Muse in the gallery, echo chambered in arches, cathedral spaces for mourning, feel more, pay a copper, all time at a glance, and then leave.
In some antonyms truths lie, or the other way around.
Endanger, harm, hurt, injure, lose, waste. But! you cry. If I left the wreck alone a motorcycle would bob in the carcass of freight at the shore in the tide of the sea.
Rusted and lost.
Maybe radiant danger.
A relic from elsewhere, whenever, not here. Someplace vanished or vanishing surely. A lucky leftover trace to be gingerly saved, made marmalade, preserved, on toasts, at tea, politely. And cannons at noon if needed.
I went combing the shore for an antonym, I searched; it was no accident, no happy chance coincidence, I was looking for stormleavings, I was metal detecting, mastering meanings, trophy hunting, for curio concupiscence, finding myself in looking for you,
who are not me.
thegoodbadpeople 
i like this. i want to say it’s odd because but on the other hand, i don’t want to say that. i like odd, but the part of me that wants to say that this is odd is the prose-me who spends too much time accelerating for the sake of acceleration. this post, for the first time today, slowed me down a bit. and slow is cool, even if, it feels odd. i guess you could always counter that it is odd to feel odd about slowness, and maybe that is true.
i’ll leave it that, but not before i thank you.
thank you.
Thank you. Yes, I think I know what you mean. And thank you.