Flash Poetry: The Candle
I'm calling poems I publish on here "flash poetry," for the double meaning that they may be briefly illuminating, and indecent exposure. Lecture Now, what I have here is a candle. Some of you may not be familiar with candles; let me explain: They are made of wax, they are wick within and burned, they are light and flame. What I have here is a candle; Now remember that the candle cannot see herself. She sees only the shadows she casts, her distorted form, she cannot tell that she sees because of her own light. She doesn’t know: she is the reason we see as we have never seen before. Now remember, what I have here is a candle. To the candle, the world is melting; Or rather, she is melting, while the world grows up around her. How true, she thinks, that I will only shrink forever. The candle does not understand, she has melted before, and will melt again. Here is a candle. She wants to hide her twisted body under a bu...