Animals

Isolated from herd, chased past exhaustion, you rip my body to the ground and pull my throat from my neck, before tearing great chunks from me.

I leave a red stain around your mouth. But not for long. I am digested. You are hungry still.

A life later, maybe two, or seven, you’re in the university accommodation opposite mine. Over packing boxes, we wave an awkward hello. I am, slowly, dragged to the earth again. The thud of head hitting ground echoes across my skull.

My stain plays ghostly around your lips, like the smile which used to tear across my mouth as I smiled back into you, basking in a power you had, and I could not. Late-night cups of tea. Kebabs as ill-advised as the cheap vodka they soaked up. The intimacy of predator and prey.

I am left in a heap, unsightly, and you roam again.
Remembrance. Repetition.
Consumption coming.