The Texture on a Fly's Thigh

The world
the days of the world
carry me further away
from the habitual and the friendly,
I brush through a nether world,
not often thought about,
never dreamed about,
a nobody cares world,
an oddness.
I experiment with dark field
and illumination from an artificial sun
where the star in the sky never shines,
and find texture on a fly's thigh
I never realized.

Far away.