Moths by Marina Zrnic©

lucasvphotos-7ONZ8D-f4lI-unsplash

They flap around

caress me with their wooly wings

touch my eyelashes

stare at me.

I hear a whisper a squeak a click

I hear my name

but when I turn around

only a moth is there.

From my bed I observe the blinking in the dark

furry silky bodies trying to make their way

to my third eye.

I am so blind and so sorry

I only hear the whispers

of the change to come

from all the purple smoke

which inhabitates my house.

Comments

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