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MOTHS

By Debra Watson



I dream insects

 

Itchy little critters

with spindly legs

 

Restless clothes moths

fluttering behind the bar-like

strands of your matted hair

 

We can never face each other

or be naked

even unclothed

 

Your mouth is a see-saw

of chewing mandibles

 

You leave everything

threadbare


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