Inside the windows, where dust
adheres to glass, its opaque silence
swallowing the light, disguising
any signs of living, smells like
stones & salt, tastes like sickness.
This place has been abandoned
for awhile, a vacant carcass lying
in its ornate coffin waiting for
the world to end, for confirmation
that its missing tenants have moved
into a bigger house. At night, outside
the windows, stars admiring their faint
reflections, attract the moth's attention
with their tiny, glowing mouths.

1 comment:

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Love those "tiny, glowing mouths".