Like the back of my hand

30/06/2016

I knew you, I’d boast,
like the back of my hand;
never realizing
that I spent little time
actually getting to know it.

I knew you, for years,
like a member of the family.
But I’d had no family
for most of my life.

I knew you’d never leave me.
When I came home
and all your things had gone
I knew there’d be a simple explanation.

And there was:
you’d left me
even though I’d always known
we would be together forever
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Flies

17/05/2016

Under the blasted tree the horse lies dead,
Its face upturned, eyes black with flies,
Nostrils and lips encrusted
With chitinous, rank coagulate.
The insects crawl on the lolling tongue;
Its belly bloated though two days past
It starved, ribcage protruding.
And here, there, the horse hair parts,
Skin and hidden layers uncoil
As maggots eat their way out
To the wider fly-blown world.

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