Lone candlelight burning
Safely within the confines of the clay burner
Gentle lavender wafts through
The night air
Hoping to help calm
To help rejuvenate frayed nerves
And numbed emotions.
Rimbaud’s thousand dreams burn softly, whilst Yeats’, like mine
Are tread upon
As I long for an eternity unspoken of,
As I hope for your treading to be soft and light,
Knowing and appreciating all
That I have laid at your feet.
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