le feu

Incandescent love ,

fueled by heart felt ruminations,

sanguine memoirs of truth bearing arteries,

light chasing shadows about a dimly lit room,

probably a tent; warmth owed to the summer dusk,

silly moths flirting and flitting about the flame,

their patrons true contemporaries snuggled in their downy sleeping bag,

mildly dusty vanilla fragrance presses the senses,

pools of cooling wax heating oak; light reflecting as it dances just above,

flames licking the night, barely visible within their opaque resin confines,

drifting lazily into the twilight, soft smoke twirling as it wafts,

holds true like an eternal guardian of the air,

never quite burning down, ever mystifying it’s captors,

lucent plaything of bygone readers and ambiance of countless lovers,

seal of the evening and gentler than any breath,

plume, illuminating loom.

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