The moths fly in
to catch the
light
because I leave
the windows
open,
I find them
fallen on my
sill,
hard and crisp
as death-
dried flowers
losing color,
fading away.

I always leave
my windows open
and let everything
in.

the animals
the light
the smoke from a
neighbor's chimney
or a fire burning
far away-
the moths
the wasps
the black beetles and
gnats
and romance-
and you-

you are not excluded.

I always keep my
porch light on,
my windows propped
up
letting the world see
everything I am
and August,
you came in-
but
I still
can't shut
the window

I'm so afraid of
you leaving the way
you came
suddenly
suddenly
suddenly through an
open window
and this time I might have
to shut myself in
because I've never
found a light like
you

I'm like the moths
who look for the light
in my window
and get too close
and fly in, head first
without restraint and
incinerate

you're too bright and
I'm too open
and I think that
this is
it.