An Empty Candlestick
An empty candlestick
Wondering alone in the dark
Longing for a spark
In this silent stark
In a lonely corner block
A silhouette in black
Facing neither front nor back
Missing a lit matchstick
A wax candle in hand
Like a cradle being held
A sudden heaven
A scented burn
The form wavy strange
The flame in red-orange
Blew without a wind
For the eye the light to find
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