The story goes something like this:
Some quite night, a moth was hovering near an open flame, darting closer and closer to the willful flame. A bug was nearby, and, confused by the moth's nearly suicidal actions, asked the moth, "Why do you move closer and closer to the flame knowing that it will kill you on touch?"
To which the moth knowingly
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don marquis
its my favorite poem ever.
love melanie
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http://www.donmarquis.com/readingroom/archybooks/moth.html
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