I have been the candle’s flame
Burning on for endless nights
Many moths have been drawn close
And I have watched them fall, consumed.
A passion that has burned so brightly,
Its paraffin has been my heart,
Slowly melting away.
Some I have spared from the terrible heat;
My fingers trace their images trapped under cellophane–
I have kept them safe-distanced
Through a camera’s lens and a few dance steps.
Their impressions have been made in my warm soft meltings,
And as rivulets of hot wax dribble down
I try to protect those shallows and hollows
From being filled by something else.
I have exploded now into a flame
Whose name is Terminus.

I watch as the hot wind
Blows away all that I have known before,
And know that my fire burns colder,
Just as bright.