Too long to short to know

The lights and the quiet

seem to spread like water released from a container

long held, yet somehow long trapped, floating and then spreading

filling all the space


just lights

and quiet

perhaps, listening for the quiet flutter of moth’s wings

slapping gentle against the light

as they lead into flames and falling

into the spreading water


in a sizzle and a pop

the last ripple spreading

and lapping the edges of the what was once a wall

turn back

and begin again

smaller and smaller

as the moth sinks out of sight

and the lights go out

for the last time.

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