Moths

A translator who has a phobia of moths

spent three years translating a book with a moth motif.

It’s ironic, she has said, that she knew more about the moths

than the author of the original, who was merely fascinated.

The translation contained a greater variety of moths than the original,

drawn from suggestions she had made, some of which were in fact

too perfect and changed back before it went to print.

Her moths, the ones that were too aptly named,

meant too much, her moths that she hated, where are they now?

The same place as all the versions of people

that have been undressed and slept with, in lieu of the people

themselves, by others. That must include a version

of almost everyone, lots of versions of some people,

some only a flutter, animated then decided against.