Lighting a candle before my bedside,
I slip a small piece of my past
underneath the brass holder
to catch the waxy overflow.

A pink envelope addressed to
(my love)
encases the torn and tattered teardrop-filled
piece of stationery paper.

Your words mush together with the
slight scent of beeswax and sage
and my mind wanders off to an unknown place

3 am:
Awaking to the smell of
an almost-smoke
burning my nostrils

burning my curtains
Is this what it was like
loving me?

Loving you was an ongoing river
each rush getting away from me
the second I felt it
while the rocks, the biggest burdens,
stay in place,
unmoved, unsolved

The light of the candle flickers
as I watch the fiery masterpiece
flow over the room

I lit the candle before my bedside.
I knew the consequences,
repercussions
of loving you.