You used to be a dream,
A candle, tall and thin, still aflame from your previous owner and user,
your queen and your abuser,
your victim and your accuser.
I knew the roads of your past with her so well;
how could I not, when she was the air you breathed?
Your exhale was her name,
your eyes glazed at the thought of her sweet laugh,
and I was her in your arms if the lights were off and the clock had already sent the princess home.
We never were, and now I am happy of that.
You could never have spoken my name as sweetly as you do hers.
You could never have remembered the freckles on my cheeks as perfectly as you do hers.
You could never have been inside of my soul as you are in hers.
I think of you now and it's as if I am also a candle,
small and quiet,
the barest light,
hidden from most and content to be so.
A king will find me
and light me
as your queen did for you,
setting you on fire for the world and for love and for haste,
for youth turned to memories of candy and salt.
Until then, I sleep.