Candle and Smoke

The sound of your laughter is a heat source on my body,

A golden flame that dances over the years,

Yet shadows crowd where first the light doth rise,—

The same voice, now so sweet to comfort, brings to my eyes the tears.

In the light of memory thy tender face I see,

Each little furbished as the yellow stone,

But darkness murmurs in the vacant place;

Instead touched me in places, it rarely known.

Beautiful, and so far away, the love we have is bright as Though the words are clear.

It is at once comfort and an unhealable wound.

On the best joy is stamped its evil twin—

To shed what makes this broken world feel real.

I keep you close in dance of dark and light,

Always somewhere between memory and accident.