Moth

swimming in a midnight stew of silver sky
as light as the froth blown from the seas
the liquid moonlight cries, "come here!"

shimmering your sandy glow like
december mist illuminated by the quiet porch light
you hear colors when she calls your name

swirling towards her faint glow
you drink her light like nectar

sprinkling sugar on skin
made of your powdered dust you
glide in your repetitive pattern

shivers a luminous beating heart
cupped in the hands of a honeysuckle's flower

shaped by micro-feathers and
pocket-sized wings
a boneless body made of paper-thin glass
too delicate for
brittle human hands to touch