One Night in November
I.
A candle sits calmly
While the flame dances on,
The vessel still and static
Below the rending of the calm.
On the surface: a flurry, a frenzy,
Such fury darts and glows –
Only by melting down its structure
Can the flame further its own.
Betwixt the quiet candle
And its manic wick, life exists:
So readily will stillness warp
From chaotic phosphorous.
II.
Moments melt and retake form:
Lesser imprints molded from before --
Joy not recreated --
Purity not destroyed --
The memory's memory burnt into my core.
I love you in this moment -
In that moment -
Like I’ve never loved before.
III.
Though the light may gradually dim --
The ashes scatter and the darkness win --
The flame still lives.
The flame still lives.
IV.
I can't remember ever wanting
A specific moment not to end,
For the earth to cease its spin;
Rather, countless times I've feared
The passing of hours and of years;
I've done so only because I dread
The time that's left unhad and up ahead.
Same desire, different causes:
If only time pauses more like this.
V.
Specifics may be lost to time:
I may forget the way your hair
Danced amidst that heated air
Or how you fidgeted with
The blankets on the couch.
I can't promise I'll know the date
We shared a pizza, cut in eighths,
From a single pattern-printed plate;
But I'll know that moment,
I'll know that love,
Both silent and deafening
All at once.
VI.
Three tries, it took, for the light’s erasure;
I can't be certain but I'm fairly sure of
The significance of that flame’s resistance -
Its stubborn persistence -
Its desire to burn itself more clearly in my mind:
Its final moments, granting me the seconds
That exist beyond all time.
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