Only Starlight Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Generally, I tip the scales
and bad guys avoid looking into my kohl midnight eyes,
afraid of what they'll find there —
a scent of hibiscus, a closing flower.
I am only starlight,
your scale-wings will hover around me, then singe,
where moths go to perish,
mistaking me for a chance to survive my magenta kisses.

Generally, I take my time to fall in love,
but this world is not big enough to keep us apart.
There's a scent of oil in the air, a flame that won't sit still —
Come make me burn, with ashes on my windowsill.
Come to the light, come and dine tonight.
Dine — I'll keep the paraffin lit;
there'll be no reprieve for either of us.

version 3

Generally, I tip the scales
and bad guys avoid looking into my kohl midnight eyes,
afraid of what they'll find there —
a scent of hibiscus, a closing flower.
I am only starlight,
your scale-wings will hover around me, then singe,
where moths go to perish,
mistaking me for a chance to survive my magenta kisses.

Generally, I take my time to fall in love,
but this world is not big enough to keep us apart.
So do as all the other moths do —
come to the light, come and dine tonight.
Dine, and I'll keep the porch lamp on for you.

version 2

Generally, I tip the scales
and bad guys avoid looking into my kohl midnight eyes,
afraid of what they'll find there.
I am only starlight,
where moths go to perish,
mistaking me for a chance to survive.

Generally, I take my time to fall in love,
but this world is not big enough to keep us apart.
So do as all the other moths do —
come to the light, come and dine tonight.
Dine, and I'll keep the porch lamp on for you.

version 1