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Moth

by  Jabulani

Posted: Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Word Count: 50




Ripple, beat
The air cracks,
rent
by a wings cut

Blurring
Each moment’s
substance
torn

Freely bound;
a dance
pulling
against love

And the fire
beyond reach
that calls
through the closing dark

Again the burn
and the beat
and the crack
and the pull
and the dance
that dies