By William Carlos Williams
The moth under the eaves
with wings like
the bark of a tree, lies
symmetrically still—
And love is a curious
soft-winged thing
unmoving under the eaves
when the leaves fall.
- he/him
- linktr.ee/alexander_b_joy
Ph.D. in Comparative Literature, believe it or not. Occasional game dev. SFWA Associate. See website for bylines/portfolio. Yes, this is actually my name.
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in reply to @aeneas-nin's post:
thank you for introducing me to william carlos williams :) his poems are so fun