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We Are, But Candles

Lone candle wick drowns

Not meant to burn unattended

Acrid perfume, caramelized threads

Irked nostrils where scents are blended

Lit blithely hours ago 

Pretty soft glow on the sill

Ghostly shadows at times flicker 

Wax pool has now over-spilled

Malleable trills overflow

Drip dripping stiffening ripple

Down the smooth surface like snail

Tears of drunken-held tipple

Creating shapes frozen in time

Immobile the wax acts as mortar

Forgotten till self-extinguished

Shrinking flame a dying cavorter

Who knew an abandoned rushlight

Ubiquitous on every ledge

In every home is a symbol 

Of lives played-out, on the edge

Another removed from the box

Sulfurous match sets alight

To be used up again and forgotten

Dispensable, replaceable, finite

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