As a moth to a flame
So to the call she came
A walk entranced
Each step her hips sway
Almost as though she danced
Through the ever-present mist
Gone is the light of day
Only the shine of the moon
As her hands reach forth
Twist to grasp for warmth
Toll of the lunar noon
Cross into the time
Of the approaching dawn.
- Jay M
March 10th, 2022
Sometimes, we are but moths to unseen flames; seek them out, and you shall find the most peculiar things.