How dearly did you pay
for this chance
to be the moth that burned —
everyone watching. gape-mouthed,
your breathless splendor —
many wishing they could be so graced,
not knowing
you were passing
so very quickly
from flame to fluttering ash,
swept away to the oblivion
of all who let themselves be mouthpiece
for the machine.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 1, 2015
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