My heart is a moth
with wings that beat -- a little clumsily, perhaps
looking for warmth and life
She
navigates by light
of the moon
but sometimes gets distracted
by the artificial
light bulb packed with filament -- conductive materials which energize when illuminated

Please don't blame me if I mistook that hollow electric orb for the moon
and buzzed around it, bounced off, with burning wings
.... or that time I braved death by flying so near the flame
at least my heart
is still flying
My wings may be singed, but they aren't afraid to beat wildly-- the way a child runs
I'm just after a true source of light
like the moon
Next time I'll lean in
for something steadier
my true compass