When the candle is extinguished
\nthe last wisp belongs to me.
\nThe little ghost leaving the candle.
\nThe sun falling into the horizon.
\nThe aftermath of light that stays.
\nWhen lips release their touch
\nand my heart falls in.
\nMy hand that falls from its goodby.
\nColors the soul can see.
\nPoetry that lives between its lines.
\nWhere the music goes
\nwhen the string is still.
\nThis is where my life stops and starts.
\nWhere a glance means more
\nthan incandescent stare.
\nWhere words escape to higher vocabulary,
\nand beauty follows me with eyes
\nwhen my back is turned.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When the candle is extinguished the last wisp belongs to me. The little ghost leaving the candle. The sun falling into the horizon. The aftermath…<\/p>\n