caustic patterns


Candles coax reflective edges
Alight in flux of night’s caress
Praising the former hewned of nature
Blooms spring candour from their mouths

Slowly evolves the claim
I am more than the time it takes
As pliant wax, sensitive heart
Enamoured ruin

With a hand upon the glass
I frame adherence to understand
Why dusk chose summer
To settle down my scrupulous being

Unthread the caustic patterns
I am not at home in my waining
Quiet renditions of palpable absence
Illusory veils of earnest contempt