upon opening the meat, venison, i smelt the blood,

a thick, violet paste, rancid like glue

as i dropped the cubes into the searing copper pan

I saw the maggots pop and crisp like discarded fingernails

some exploding entirely in the heat

still more maggots came then

searching for the moments between my bones

under the leather of my skin, sucking the marrow from my cartilage

visibly fattening as they feasted, their juices congealing

like the core of a pigs trotter, used to thicken a fine stock