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Moths by Marina Zrnic©

 
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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.

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