The luna moth is pale green and bears two long tails on either side, luminous and frail. A multitude of moths will come to lights when the night is dark, but the luna moths always caught his eye. They fly in search of the moon, and love, or more likely lust, of an entomological kind.
Grey speckled spiders as big as a man’s hand will construct large webbed orbs near bright sources of light. We think of spiders as ugly and unkind, as murderers who eat out their prey from the inside.
She came to him at night, driven by her strange desires. She thinks she comes for pleasure, and for reasons she wants to hide, because of the dark thoughts that take over her mind. Perhaps she sees what he does to her as a weightless thing, as a way to sprout wings and find her direction in the night.
He sees lines of dissection laid out upon her skin. He uses rope as his knife. And chain. A hood to cover her eyes, so that she loses herself in her own mind. The administration of pain is a prod. He traps her, using light.
In darkness, her skin becomes luminous and bright. She flutters. She fights.
He grasps her, probes her, and grapples with her limbs, out-flung. He binds her to his orb. He smothers her in silk. He creates for her the fantasies she has carried inside, and more. Much, much more. More than she ever wanted to know. In the end, he eats her from the inside.
Incising along a central line, he folds back her skin and pins it to his dissecting table. He is looking for her nuts and bolts, the machinery of her life.
She is looking for the moon.
