Paper Moth

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

18 thoughts on “Paper Moth

  1. “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 💜

    Liked by 3 people

    1. 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.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. 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.

    Liked by 1 person

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