The Fibrous Edges

I was made for this:  patience, leaning away,
how the beautiful keep looking for a darker
corner to slip into.  See how the fibrous edges
of the heart become thinner with each struggle,
transparent as a boiled grain of rice-

soon there will be nowhere to hide.

And those who share too much, you know
who you are, will be left with the inverse
proportion of what you gave away. Regardless,
I'm not afraid to die.  I just don't want you
to find me in the darkness like a tired moth

too afraid of light to burn itself up


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