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.