Moths - 4/2/2004

Diagram on my wall,
Knife in my hand.
A human body
Certain points marked
One at a time
Easy does it
Cut my skin,
Make the incision perfect.
Be careful
Not to damage it
One by one
Remove the moths
Gulp for air
Put them in the jar
Close the lid tight
Poke holes
Open wide
This might hurt
Me more than you
Chew them
Destroying wings
Empty eyes
Painful smile
It was worth the hurt.

AN:I had a dream...that my soul was made of moths...