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The two of us were sitting alone with a candle

Spending its life on us even as we were spending our

Lives on each other. The flickering had recently become

more phrenetic, prophetic of a hovering darkness too

profound to be spooked by a little wax and a short string.

They went outside where crickets were in concert and

she reached and touched his hand. A little light began

to rise and their words passed from logic to a warmth

Of memories accessible only in the dark.

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