Objects of Desire

A flash of silver
just below the water’s surface.

A candle tended to
and then forgotten
that burns to exhaustion
and a thin trail of smoke.

A small spark
on dry grass
and a terrible destruction.

The first gray of morning
the dew on the car window
as you drive away
regretful, exhausted.

The voice of the one
you left unfinished,
echoing in a dream
of tides.

The tender place
behind the knees
touched with tentative fingers.

The light sought, glimpsed on your darkest night
that disappears behind an invisible curtain.
You following.

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