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Oct 2014
You called me “Cochon”
The night you told me
So I hit you hard
I hit you so hard
The tumour felt it
I woke up crying
Face up in your lap
Lapping up your tears
Like a young swallow
Swallows its mother’s
Face-full of bile-worm
And I said to you
I don’t want to love
A living headstone

And you called me “Chatte”
Practicing naked
Downward-facing dog
Before your pelvis
With less fur, more *****
Regurgitating
***** of skin, of taint,
Tainted skin, birthmark
Marked malignant skin
Like a mother bird
For her naked chick
Shed of its cancer
By my grating tongue
And I called you “Chien”  

You called me for help
Through your sealed eyelids
Enveloping eyes
You no longer own
Only for a kiss
And so I kiss you
I kiss you so hard
On your cataract
It clears your socket
Now bloodied, benign
Like a cuckoo’s nest
And I said to you
I had hated it
When you spoke in French
Travis Hornsby
Written by
Travis Hornsby  South Africa
(South Africa)   
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