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.