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The Moth

A Thursday poem

By Silver DauxPublished 6 months ago 1 min read
The Moth
Photo by sahil muhammed on Unsplash

Fingers crossed

And tarot cards

Flipped by fangs,

Teeth filed into order

Because they couldn't

Get their shit together.

.

The tongue below

Bleeds across metal,

Dripping across damp

Tea leaves

Clumping against

The rim.

.

Wood cracks in the fire,

Spitting embers

Against glass.

There is meaning

In the frost

Crawling along

The mirror's edge.

.

There must be

Meaning in the moth

Overwintering

In the liar's mouth.

It's warm there,

Pressed against the coals

Of their guilt,

Isn't it?

.

I have never known

A liar who runs cold.

So I am trying to taste

The silver lining

In their mouth

And hope their heat

Can at least save

The trembling moth.

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About the Creator

Silver Daux

Writer of the dark! Think of it like flipping rocks, the weird little stories underneath are my jam and jelly. Jam and butter? Just jam. Absolutely no use of AI in any of my works :)

Ah, also:

Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake

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    Written by Silver Daux