the moth

when you met her
you didn't see
the bottle
of chardonnay
hooked up to an iv
sticking in her
arm, nor the tattoo
that read bite me
on her shoulder.
no, you missed all
of that. you saw
a princess, a beauty,
a tinker belle full
of fluffy fun
with batting
lashes and teeth
as bright
and white as any
distant sun. what
a moth to the flame
you are.
singed again
and again.