Contributor: Sharocks
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She is only lit when I walk past,
close enough for her to swat
like the flame divots with the air my body
cuts through with my leaving, the room
mutes, don't come around
when she gets upset, blood
red and orange flickers across your skin,
when I am in her presence, a fire lights in her eyes,
the room grows heavy with a burning light.
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Cat the Candle
| Filed under Sharocks