With a tiny nod to Lewis Caroll and a promise that this is the last of this series. Promise.

why i'm reaching for the slipper instead

Little moth, I’ve wanted you in my hands
So long, a tiny beating dirty thing.
I’ve been watching you flutter all along,
In and out of my vision, beating
Your delicate dusty brown wings.

I’ve longed for the brief frisson
of you trapped in my warm palms, a terrified,
living, beautiful thing. I’d let you loose through
My fingers with a smile, knowing you’d let me
Live this feathering smothering reaching feeling.

I’ve been clapping my hands too
Long around you, trying to follow
Your jagged, erratic, muddled flight.
Out of my sight now, out the window,
Before I catch you, smash you,
kill you for good!

Dave DeHart
Love "...tiny beating dirty thing"

erik99
Your note suggests there is a meaning her I don't understand, but the ambiguous feeling - loving the moth but wanting to kill it - is perfect.