Sketch

Then the chrome, adhesive, The Duck Tape, ripped, loudly, and stickily, wrapping itself like a boa around its prey. Pretending now to be glue holding life together, now a grey shoe, now tape, while the smooth of the outside glides under skin. It twist and bends across the cold pipe, and as time passes its rough, inside melts and becomes dull. Its silver shine dulls away . Then suddenly it tears as if the end of time has come. As silently as a ferocious cat.  It crumbles silently as a dying flower,  there is a wisp of air and the tape disappears as though the binding has lost all will to live, while the pipe falls to disrepair.