Skip to main content

Posts

Featured

Burn bright

The waxy click of a new box of candles. Neatly lined up, the smooth sides unblemished. The wicks, like soft ropes, Once used to hoist them from their baptism, Stretch out, exposed. Strike a match, Set one alight. Tip to flame, the ropes fizzle and burn bright. Immersed in the intensity, The weaves unfurl and rejoice, Overcome, they celebrate their last moments together. Hot wax starts to pool at the top, Glistening like water   And brimming to the point of excess. Small wet beads start to spill off the edge, Petrified as they fall, Each make their leap, Hurried and alone. Soon they lose their momentum, and start to slow, Their heads and trails clouding over as they harden. As the flame’s horizon starts to sink, More drops form and fall, Yielding to their fate, Soft veins now scale the surface, Layered trajectories of now still life, Each death remembered and preserved. Each flame, both the beginning and the end.

Latest posts

Green white and gold

On repeat

Gifts given

Dear spider

Saudade

Togetherness lost

Winter loch

Soft paws

Broken skin

A Fire Beneath

A feeling of inertia