Mothsong by Colette Inez



this is not the sun,

I say flailing my arm, but you believe

lightís true source rules from the throne

of my 60 watt bulb.

I wave off the notion

that one day a hand will bang me to the floor,

and Iíll swear by my truth, one I conceive,

that or a lie I elect wholly to believe.

Back to Archives

Colette Inez


© 2005-2008 Per Contra: The International Journal of the Arts, Literature and Ideas