The candle flickers at the end of the table,
red blue yellow,
swaying ever so gently.

The draft that slithers under the door,
around the windowpanes
could blow it out.

Still it flickers,
wax dripping, searing the wood

You stand,
chair creaking your release,
and walk forward,
stand over the candle.

In the flame you see eyes
that burn of betrayal

A hand that twitches
ever so slightly,
you ***** out the flame,
wash the blood off your hands
and pretend it's wax