Flames and Shadows

Flames and Shadows

red candles burn,

in a heavy room,

their glow shaking,

like they know my name.

the mirror behind them,

holds more than light,

it keeps old echoes,

that never learned to rest.

the walls breathe slow,

as if alive,

watching me quietly,

waiting for something.

a shape moves once,

just at the edge,

curling like smoke,

searching for meaning.

her porcelain face,

half in the dark,

rose vines climbing,

across silent skin.

ink falls steadily,

from unseen wounds,

leaving black trails,

that speak without sound.

a heart of fire,

hangs in the night,

melting at the edges,

yet refusing to die.

I stand in the centre,

caught between moments,

holding the darkness,

and letting it hold me.