I was a moth

I was a moth
pulled to her
flame – an ill
denial of age
by my heart –
my ignitions –
struck by her
& so she sees
how I’ll flare

We lit them –
[us shit kids]
with pilfered
matchsticks –
& their dusty
wings turned
to melt-sticks
[flutter taken
by our strike]

This clipping
is dull – burn
less hours in
memories – I
am sick of all
advice/ Leave
me to cool – I
will sleep [in
beds offered]