Tracklist
Inky shadows shift—
The Mothmen
slick, silent, self-satisfied.
The Mothmen
They slide along skirting boards
The Mothmen
slipstreaming the seams of the room
The Mothmen
smearing soft soot where daylight once stood.
The Mothmen
They sweep through stairwells,
The Mothmen
swallowing sconces,
The Mothmen
sanding the shine off brass and bone.
The Mothmen
They slink past cracked picture frames,
The Mothmen
sketching small scandals
The Mothmen
in the corners of your vision.
The Mothmen
They shudder in the kettle’s hiss,
The Mothmen
shiver under doorjambs,
The Mothmen
shoulder into closets like burglars of breath.
The Mothmen
They shear the lamp-light into ribbons,
The Mothmen
shred it into shy confetti,
The Mothmen
scatter it behind your teeth.
The Mothmen
They swirl in sink water,
The Mothmen
a spiraling stain of storm-thoughts,
The Mothmen
a slick sermon that never speaks.
The Mothmen
They skate the ceiling’s spine,
The Mothmen
a black ballet of bad ideas,
The Mothmen
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