Fluttering, paper-thin, murky brown wings,
Tickle the inside of her stomach.
Rough bodies, squeezing past each other, create
Friction.
In their fight for a place to grow and feed and breed
Their bodies swell with the blood and nutrients that she needs
To stay alive.
Their egos swell with lust for sinister excitement.
And they crave to colonize the rest of her
Body,
So one bites a hole inside her
Belly.
And the rest follow
Chewing their way through muscles and fat
Disrupting the flow of blood
So her organs slowly
Empty.
Wet wings push their way up her esophagus
Heavy with the weight of her saliva.
As she gulps down the fat bodies
Stuck in her throat
Wings thrash wildly against the downward pressure
Vibrating her vocal cords.
They slow in the oppressive heat of her
Mouth and nose
But attach their sticky feet to her
Tongue
And climb all the way
Up, up, up,
Until they finally reach her head
Where they feast
on juicy pink matter and
Lick their lips clean of the juice of her
Hopes and dreams.
Lobe by lobe they travel to
Bite off her rational thoughts until
there is nothing left but the
Moths
In the hollow shell they once called home and now
Crunch
Their last hole in her skull
And fly away.
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