Thursday, April 5, 2018

the teardrops of candles


holding tight to candle light

i wonder where you are tonight

marinating in the moment

and the candle’s soft atonement

shadows dancing from the flicker

on the straw line of the wicker

ancient aromatherapy

has not a done damn thing for me

 

it’s quiet here, nothing is on

the west will sleep until the dawn

and i will write by candlelight

within the darkness of the night

the quiet is a constant sound

that’s made when you are not around

i’d rather know the noise of you

among the things that you would do

 

***

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