Where small things die

this is not the monstrous moth that woke me up just now.
he, or she, is still at large.

every night she bangs her head against the walls,
ignoring my indications to the open window
because there is no light outside to draw her. 

yet there is little light inside,
which could explain why she flew at my closed mouth,
alarming my eyes.

this moth was found sleeping eternal in the floorboards,
in the same situation where the lumbering crunchy bug just died
at the hands of a q-tip and an espadrille.

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