Two consonants with a vowel in between
seem to be something like taboo in my mind.
I’ve read them everywhere but refuse to
jump on the band wagon. I refuse to
accept what this acronym means.

These thoughts were going through my head
as I stared intentely at the glowing candle stick
in my hand. I was emersed in the glow,
how the the blue magically turned into red orange.

What got me the most was the dripping hot wax,
it had fallen but made a mark regardless.
Just like you.

There was something beautiful about my candle that night...
about everyones cande.
They were lit as the magenta band around the sky
turned into midnight blue and engulfed our heads.
All that stood out was the illumination of the candles.

The candles that lit up faces full of sorrow and unsettling remorse.
These faces had arched eyebrows and lips askew.
These faces had eyes so sullen and red they would
pull at your heart strings and the rest of you.
These faces were void of sugar, spice, or anything nice.
We all wished we could give that
one
last
word
of advice.

As I came up to the microphone, I looked up,
past the banners full of love letters,
past the slightly waving flags, into the night;
I’d like to think I felt your spirit there,
lingering to hear our last words before going on a journey
out of sight.

My words cracked just as the solidity in my face.
I missed you. I miss you. I will always miss you.
But as I sit here, I think about what those three letters mean.
Those letters that associate you
with engraved headstones and rose petals.
Those letters that bring my tear ducts out of the drought
that came after the last devastating flood.

R.I.P.