I see you

I want you to see me

but you view things differently

loudest at night

frantic flapping

I try to rest my head

headbutting a wall

until the window opens

you never take it as a hint

a buzz accompanied by






if I don’t see you

you’re in my ears


kiss my lobes

push through

the mucus membrane

scratching behind

my retina

my sinuses

nibbling tissue

tearing tendons

if I can’t see you

my lips part

you tune your antennae

past night time drool

into tubes and tunnels

vessels and veins


scorched by stomach acid

I wish I could take as much space

as you do

unapologetic residues

maximum volume

small, but

you keep them away

instead of embarrassed to be

moving through

with a fleshy leaking body

like moving

never feels quite right, but

sometimes I remember

I’m bigger than you

trying to make breakfast

crusty eyes

my phone keeps buzzing

I open the cupboard

you land on my face

I drop my phone

you’re buzzing

I shake you down

to the countertop

I grab a soft cloth because

doing this with my skin

would be

too wet

too honest

I press it against your tiny delicate body

your exoskeleton

can hardly contain itself

it looks like small shreds of tree bark

my phone buzzes

a chemical reaction

bigger than us

I try picking you out of the fibres

you’re deep in the weave

you get stuck under my fingernails

I hope I didn’t hurt you

your twitching felt bad

reminded me of when

kids in school lit matches

orange flames up against

spindly daddy long legs

their screams loud

“it’s just escaping air”

they’d say

bigger than us

whenever I think you’ve gone

you’re already back

multiplying and organising

copied and pasted

your larvae in my cornflakes

in the pores of my cheeks

brittle legs tickle

long strands of fine hair

House Fly