In the 19th century, Henri Fabre tried to discover the mechanism by which           peacock moths, who live only two days, attract mates. He died, not knowing.

She wears dark-red velvet

with an ermine collar.

A purple, white, and chestnut eye

adorns the skirt of each wing.

For two nights

myriad pale shapes

big as birds

flutter around her cage.

On the third,

we find her dead

in an empty room.

In our candlelit

single file

up the stairs

we too are ghosts.

We too have no mouths.

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