Moth By Cerys Hudd

I would give you the world

if I could hold it in my hands,

but a soul bright as yours

has a form as fine as sand.

Slips through my fingers;

A dusty gas I try to grip onto.

I watch the light pass between;

casting shadows of yellow hue.

As delicate as a dandelion.

As persistent as a pulse.

I try not to show my fascination;

suppressing every impulse.

Looking from afar,

but in fact too close for comfort.

The brightness blinds me

still my delusions come first.

Your beauty commands a watchful eye;

a sin to look away.

I stand in your shadow

and analyse your details everyday.

Every atom of dust,

Every molecule of your spirit,

has felt the gaze of my pupils.

Your essence they inherit.

I would give you the world

but it wouldn’t be enough.

I try to ignore my devotion,

It’s all but a bluff.