To The Bone: Poems of Resigned Reality

Moths

I walk through hallways

White lights, Marble floors, 

And portraits on the walls 

Of girls covered in moths

The contrast to their eyes

Resting on their lips like morning dew

Drawing up tears, as if nectar

I think through hallways

Many have stated that 

A moth is drawn to a flame 

But I recently learned

A moth is drawn to celestial lights

And though a flame can mimic celestial lights

It is not a celestial body

All the girls are celestial bodies

And all celestial bodies are covered in moths