it doesn't end...
that wanting to breathe
where you breathe
and fluttered wings
only remind me of your lips.
light, on or off
does nothing
to stop these hypocritical moths
from visiting.
circumstance and events
come and go
hazes in clarity and darkness
switching effortlessly.
Eila Mahima Jaipaul
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-42/
