I am the moth you desire, dancing
in the flicker of your eyes
a silhouette pressing against folds
with the weight of a shadow’s
soft touch of faded lovers
a haunting intimacy of your gaze
with a pulse in a dying flame
darker than gaslights in the maze
like a Cephas of cold bone
a psalm unraveling in palms
would fashion such a hunger
clinging to the depth of your soul
knuckling through the cracks
and calling it holy
a silhouette pressing against folds








Love this one.