Monday, April 11, 2016

pantry moths

i opened the cupboard and it was full of moths.
tiny folded wing slivers, scattered like birth marks, or constellations or
malignant tumors,
each day a few more plastered themselves
like eyes around the kitchen, they witness
my wilting, they see
all of it.
the moths multiply, they speak to me, they started as pests but 
i am so lonely that i don't want them to leave.

they say the cicadas will come this summer, cover the city in glittering beetle shell,
and in the fall, they say they may 
take me
with them.

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