Flame devours its body
yet insists on shining
Is this folly or wisdom
to waste in order to give
Wax asks for nothing
but to be remembered as warmth
Smoke curls its afterword
in cursive gray
I ask the candle for advice
It replies without voice:
“Meaning is not duration
but intensity ”
When the last light flickers
I see clearly for once:
sacrifice is not loss
but language