Moths
moths flail thick winged on the glass...
as sweat stenched pillows cradle matted hair
and dumb eyes.
crumpled sheets strewn about wet flesh
trap wayward limbs
and snag jagged nails.
but the moths...
flicker and flap
and whisper wicked taunts
and promise quick kisses
stolen from behind the
cracked mirror
where both my faces
bleed into
one
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