i.
this life is ancient
at a distance, it is dust
the thirst for solitude
the luxury of
loving in tandem
like the idea of a paper moth
its image is bodiless, breaks
flies into a ponderous, gray light
ii.
a soft landing
under weight of wood and sky
the air has grown short and peaceful
while the morning walks
over my chest
and the soil is liberated
(prelude to a kiss)
the intimacy of rust and shade
their milky roots converge in silence
iii.
that is how fire becomes
dancing, you know
how the earth
unlearns its name
mine lives there, too,
in the feathers of my eyes
seeds like green apples and
lost, lonely parables
under final
persecution of beauty
loving together in sonnets
saluting oceans
with invisible hands
The Used Life 
18 responses to “Paper Moth”
Delicate and refined as juunihitoe tissue.
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Thank you so much.
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how the earth
unlearns its name
mine lives there, too,
Wow, I can’t stop reading these lines. These lines really hit home for me.
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I’m glad they did! Thank you for commenting.
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“seeds like green apples and
lost, lonely parables”
This line takes me to another time…the remnants of oral and written wisdom…nostalgia for something I’ve never lived but somehow feel a part of.
“under final
persecution of beauty
loving together in sonnets
saluting oceans
with invisible hands”
This final verse is a perfect ending…perhaps because it feels like the perfect beginning to yet another story 💜
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Thank you very much! I am happy those lines made you feel a certain kind of nostalgia. I think that’s a wonderful feeling, and one that I often marvel at–how certain symbols can make us identify with, or yearn for, a time, place, or sensibility that we ourselves have never experienced.
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Je n’ai jamais pensé que quelqu’un serait inspiré par un insecte incandescent, un petit papillon de nuit qui vit (et meurt) parmi les lettres mortes de livres désaffectés, pour écrire un poème aussi beau que celui-ci.
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Merci pour vos gentils et poétiques compliments, AW. Les papillons de nuit sont des créatures d’un grand mystère et symbolisme. Ils sont également beaux et dignes d’éloges poétiques.
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Your poem lives in the space between just waking and embracing the day, where dreams still linger, but are quickly fading away. 💖
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What a beautiful—and poetic—compliment! Thank you, Michele. 💜
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The feathered eyes and the lovely flow of lines like the dropping of one.
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Thank you very much!
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Beautiful post
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Thank you.
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Mesmerizing lines. So cute. Thanks!
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Thank you. Happy you enjoyed it.
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Pablo neruda’s twin soul has written this😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
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What compliment! Thank you. I’m happy you enjoyed the poem so much.🙂
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