Written candles
ebb through the angles of light
following hoax-lighted dawn.
Let me know
the incommensurate pleasure
of carved, shaded tears
while old-fashioned darts fade away.
Pegging
to the never-ending myth of untidy words
cleared from once darkened skies.
I insist:
believers
should heave shoulders against tainted walls
like a deer floats in the autumn mist
melting twisted eyes against fate.
I insist:
forgotten faces
(once not so-forgotten)
washed away in the turf of tears
but tears lie no more
in the edge of adamant eyes.
Candles
spreading ashes as the wind whispers
move away doomed pieces
of once-upon-a-time secrets.
Candles
vivid,
sparkling candles
ending evanescent shame
a bequest of the fresh air:
the inexorable ingredient to be lived with.
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