by Bilal Saloo

Inhaling the scent of melted wax, of candles,

lit and burned down to their plate,

forever present, an aroma lingers in moving air, 


seeing vivid images overlaying as they unfurl,

uncurl, in mind’s eye, like erupting light, a flame,

now flameless, shining brightly against blurred background,


sweet sounds interrupting sweet silence, faded

muffled, but clear to hear with open ear,

the flicker, the snap, the crackle, the pop, the roar,


feeling the warmth run, slither and spiral to the core,

the heart, and reach out to the tips, the lips’

the fingers, etching the flames of extinguished light.



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