DissectionAs a child, I was enthralled by moths. The way they circled the light made me think of dancing angels.More Like This
I eventually managed to catch one, and in my curiosity, I decided to dissect it.
The blade of my knife slid gently over its abdomen, slicing it open.
Carefully, I removed its insides and after an hour of labor all that was left was a lovely carcass with feathered wings.
It wasn't until after it was done that I understood. Dead things are not beautiful. A moth's corpse cannot dance with fire.
Still, I kept the small insect inside a box until the wings turned brittle and crumbled into dust.
Ellie reminds me of it.
Everything about her is frail and small. Jutting shoulders, skeletal hands, a protruding collarbone. Her eye sockets are cavernous and her cheekbones sunken.
"You're quiet, Noah, what are you thinking about?"
Her voice is soft and her gaze is solemn.
"Moths," I tell her.
Her thin lips curl in disgust and her scraped knuckles tighten. Blood flows from the cuts, but she d
Acherontia AtroposFeather flutters near the flamesMore Like This
I start- then stutter- what to say?
Words stuffed deeply down my throat
Eating at my insides just like moths
Songs sound softly in my head
And chant the secrets of the dead
Yearning always to remain untold
But beating against my lips just like the moths
Pulsing, approaching candlelight
Into self-consuming constellations burst
Raining down in ashes- just like moths
But, at least -at last- they have been told.
WASP NIGHTMAREA religious friend once told me of his nightmare about Isis successfully invading the U.S.More Like This
Putting Christians in camps, he basically described a fictional America's Holocaust.
Ignoring how ridiculous that scenario was,
Trying not to laugh,
My response was simple. "At least I'm safe and sound in your dreams."