Withdrawals [Kelsey Cooley] There are two powdered moths In the chasm of my belly. Their slimy satin wings brush The pearly gates of my gut Swarming to suppress a filthy appetite— Dust falls from their shredded wings Only to float atop a silver pool. They send tingles through my pores Seducing a sweat from my brow… Like a barbaric camera shuttering— Or a pitiful pulse of electric shock. They flutter into prostration— Soon slowing to a solicitous sleep.
XXXV