For An Addict A Blessing On its way through the innocent night, The moth is ambushed by the light, Becomes glued to a window Where a candle burns; its whole self, Its dreams of flight and all desire Trapped in one glazed gaze; Now nothing else can satisfy But the deadly beauty of flame. When you lose the feel For all other belonging And what is truly near Becomes distant and ghostly, And you are visited And claimed by a simplicity Sinister in its singularity, No longer yourse