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I observe you, little moth. Your movements, so erratic, yet captivating. You flutter near and a smile graces my face. I chuckle to myself to think that I should take such enjoyment from this. The more I watch you, the more I want to have you closer. A while later, I attempt to coax you into an enclosure. No, you fly away from it. Why can't I persuade you? You would have everything you need. Eventually, I manage to catch you in the corner of the bay window. You are so beautiful, little moth. In my moment of fascination, I become blinded to your wings battering against the sides of your newly created home. It may take time, I suppose. All too soon, I find you laying on the floor. Your beauty is no more. As I stare at your limp body, I manage to acknowledge my mistake. I knew what you needed, but so enamored, neglected what you truly wanted.