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
friendships and
falling outs and
you.

you are not excluded.

I always keep my
porch light on,
my windows propped
up
letting the world see
everything I am,
slither in,
crawl in,
waltz or
saunter in I
still
can't shut
the
window

I'm so afraid of
everything leaving the way
it comes:

suddenly
suddenly
suddenly through an
open window

and here I am trying
not to be a
moth
who looks for the light and a
rip in the screen,
and gets too close
and flies in, head first
without restraint,
she incinerates

Life is so bright and
I am so open,
propped open,
stationary and
liberated

as an open window.