Gaurav Gurung

The Moth and The Warmth

The tiny moths circled around me as I lit my cigarette to feel the warmth of my mouth,

A bother to sway them away; I just stared perplexed at a fading reality 

 

\"My name is Sarah\", said she 

mirroring my dead wife 

Not much to my surprise 

I heard the bugs talking every now and then

\"What brings you here? This open balcony that no one inhabits?\", Said she

\"To escape from myself\", said I

\"It\'s funny, how you swallow what we call home and it doesn\'t burn you\" 

I replied, \"but it does kill me, even if it doesn\'t burn me\"

\"Oh!\", she gasped.

Not understanding what I meant

\"I will let you stick to my body just to feel the warmth I stole from your home\", said I

 

She swarmed over my body and slowly her friends joined in too

They felt the warmth of their stolen abode

and I felt the warmth of bodies

They kissed me all over, savoring every trace of their destroyed home and I fell limp but complete 

 

\"Your warmth is growing dimmer\", said one

My body turned cold and my eyes shut close

I died on that fateful day giving them back a piece of their right

When the morning light fetched sunrays

They had died with me 

Laying in bulk beside me.