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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