As the morn
pours vapoured life from dawn´s rosy-ewered lip,
You´re born
struggling, emerging, wet-fragile-winged-tip,
As the sun fills
the day´s begging bowl with life for you to sip,
You dance with
sunbeams, & from the moon´s mantle you gently slip,
As dusk commits
sepia suicide & into oblivion accidentally skips,
You flirt; you
mate, knowing this is your only once- in- a- lifetime trip,
As into the
obsidian ink of night, your wings make their final dip,
For you the moth, one day is all, beaten by life´s
short cruel whip.
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