The Man with a Moth on the Inside Coming Out

The Man with a Moth on the Inside Coming Out

The radiance of stars is perfect for looking inward

at that which has always been waiting, like a moth

that cannot fly except in a light like this. It stutters

up my throat. It holds onto my lip with legs as fine

as pins. The powder of its wings comes off on my teeth.

And then a batting at the air, a relief to learn it

flies. I mark its progress by the way it darkens

one star at a time.