Wednesday, March 14, 2018

[many a moon]

Once I was pure
Clean and neat
Like a well lit place

And so I was born
And soon I existed
Like a lit light bulb

There was a moth
Surrounding me
Picking fragments
Waiting on me

Twice I was fooled
Stubborn and ashamed
Like a clown in a play

And so I was dead
And soon I felt no more
Like a broken light bulb
Light was here

Heated glass
Light descended
I forgot, lost
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