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

raphaellalaurence

CA

19 years old

More by raphaellalaurence

  • In the Palms of My Hands

    The sand that coats the ground
    holds the shape of the wind
    It's all beige and blue 
    until the moon rises and the stars compile a brief glimpse of the Milky Way

    Every day I watch them die
    in the palms of my hands
  • A bed for vivid dreams

    I took a bath in my own golden light
    and watched a smile grow upon my face
    as I adventured on my own, into the forest near my house.

    I felt at home and found myself on the earth's floor looking up into a sky of movement,
  • the forest creatures

    ​along the banks of creeks and streams, 
    sleeping beneath just inches of soil,
    sucking on the roots of willow trees and the
    sap strewn from a mid-march maple tree,
    nested in the wooden wands of an ancient redwood,