The Hamlet Project

We take turns
Wednesdays he gets it
Thursdays I do.
I like to warm it in my palm
Letting the metal get brighter, shinier
My hand making its case different than it was
One temperature to another
Transforming a cold metal circle
To a warm extension of my body.
As it ticks along
I feel my own mortality
And the mortality of all those who held the watch before me.