I am your moth
I let you draw me in from the night
And then I’m
Shimmering dust under fluorescent light
Liqourish legs sticking
to your skin.
You let my dust coat you
I’m allergic, you say, but fuck it
everyone’s allergic to something.
I taste like trash
like dead paper that no one will ever read
or so i’m told
but i am so soft
to touch, and I touch and I
want to nibble you and lick you and suck you
I want to fuck you with my proboscis
Like bees flower fucking.
But you collect the honey from my eyes
leaving me dry and sugar free
And then the way you say ‘free’
sounds like the lights turning off
and i hear
flies being swatted
and i hear
take them off
and
if you won’t take them off then i will
I will take off your wings
pull off your legs
you know
it’s really your fault
for not being born
a butterfly
Photo courtesy of James Wainscoat