flavour of the moth


flavour of the moth ( htom eht fo ruovalf )


a punch in the balls
of sun-shunning cousins
lepidoptera emperors
elephantine hawks
sweet silken metaphors
& eaters of socks
them that hang with rabid cats
flaps between the bats


rising up with phosphorous
in the gloaming’s ghost
flutters of a sputtering
as an owlet howls
wing a spread – like butterflies
in the sweats of night


taste the licks of light again
– my tongue
is a flame

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