The Flame
For those of us who push the boundaries of what should never be pushed..whether that be in the world of the physical, emotional,mental or supernatural and end up hurting ourselves in the process... for the sake of the insatiable thirst we humans can have for experience,knowledge, curiosity or even a true love and unattainable emotion.
I lay here silently watching A flame flicker behind its glass
Casting taller shadows dancing on walls and so disregard
The glass as transparent as water where all is clear and does surpass
These shadows darker saying other things if you would but listen hard
This flame burns with as little air as it’s supplied
Reminded through such frivolity a memory with any meaning implied
I was young, small, my mother’s hand in mine
In a place of shining crystal and colored glass
Everything breakable save a heart upon its shelves we’d find
My eyes saw things that I found it hard to pass
And mouths above me saying “you may not touch”
And certainly “you may not hold”
And so I looked my mother in the eye with naked honesty and bold
Longing and Confusion, a tiny minds delusion
“But I desire too” was the only rule I understood
And this lesson hard learned I somewhat have withstood
I push my face into the sheet, staring at the glow upon my skin
A warm luminescence upon this porcelain
That flame dancing before me I put my hand so close and then
so burning, pain, slight and running down my skin
It does so show it is still profound
this reckless desire to reach out and touch what I cannot, though I am fully spellbound.
—C.R.Stanger
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