Asier Del Horno

We assemble at familiar lots
My consciousness consumed with desires of dusty patches
We move out in unison as we take turns to grope the round leather
The boys
All manner of sorcery invented by our idols unravel on the pitch, reprised by fervent disciples
Tin gods
As we stumble through adolescence
Stray balls crash against windows to be met with the endless rant of home owners
Collateral damage
Desperate to leave a mark on minds, and if necessary, on bare flesh
Leading ladies of the opera company, multiple captains of the Revenge
Prima Donnas
Dusk falls to signal closure
The boys trudge off with beaming smiles beneath grimaces, fading off into the night
Alpha Company


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