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Candle

As a child when you told me the wild Tales of the hatred in the world, The lust in the male body, And the lack of concern for each other, My callow soul did not flicker To realize that not every candle Was wrapped with the same type Of wax—as we age the wick moisturizes, Burns less brightly, and the wax Perpetually too hot to hold.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things