Moth Dust

Theres this little tiny moth flying around my head, like a make shift halo of fluttering wings. It looks like it's lost. Like all it wants is to get out of this house and into the cold night air. I know how it feels. Tonight was a good night. Tonight was a night where I escaped the house and got to stretch my dust covered wings. In my mind, they shuddered in the air, and silver specs of glitter came raining down. How good it felt to be held in the arms of another. To be caught in their hands and never let go, just like I try to catch that moth, only I rarely succeeded. The first time I did, my little girl hands clamped over that moth, and I killed it. I suffocated it. All the dust on it's wings was now on my hands and I cried. Now, I'm gentle. I know better.