Moth in my Room

To crash headlong
Into gauzy curtains

To skim off walls,
Wings rustling

Bouncing against corners
Soft tapping of tiny legs
upon wallpaper

Veering from point A to B,
Frantic hum of tiny wings

Land momentarily
Upon a piece of furniture
Or doorknob
As if one had forgotten
One’s purpose

And then remembering it again,
A clumsy spiral
Not into open air,
But the first semblance of alluring light

Just like the rest of us

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