Mate-flies

Mate-Flies underneath a sun too seen, a pond lies still in nature's corner. flakes of sunlight shave off in its water dusting the bottom with shimmering silt. the proud, sterling mate-flies keep it in protection and obsession. those flitting nymphs like memories of unfettered fleeting moment, pure. dip your hands with curious gloves and claim the guarded booty, long buried. cleaned with the sun's porous towel, the face of a corpse, long dead, revealed. that expression of hopeless suffocation muffled by blankets of an indifferent earth. the flies ascend sending messages of consequences dire, sincere. the bloated slain, laid with care at rest again, still in nature's corner