The Candle In My Room

How could you forget the smell of baked cinnamon vanilla sugar donuts?

I’d like to ask her.

But not today.

Maybe soon.

Maybe never.

With our faces almost touching. Our lips barely brushed. Our eyes locked in a stare. Her brilliant calculated eyes, a doting liquid gaze. 

Let me tell you then. 

That hit of sweet woody fragrance to your nose feels like flowering trees on the first day of a sun-kissed long-awaited spring. The aroma intensified by caramelized sugar and warm vanilla bread fresh from the oven will make you kinder to strangers. 

Take it in from all the corners of my room, close your eyes, and be taken back to a time when everything in this world was a place full of excitement and embrace. 

Watch closely as its three wicks flicker a reminiscent glow that weaves an intricate love story of you and me. 

Set a tone of enchantment to how this candle turned a simple act of friendship into an affair that you most certainly have not forgotten.

The candle in my room not only invigorates the senses, it also meddles with affairs of the heart. All the pain, all the happiness. It brings back memories.  

Think of all the times we broke things and made things whole. 

Over and over. 

Only to leave all the splintered pieces that both of us shattered back to their intended broken state. 

For good. 

For good this time. 

This candle, its flame, inflicts a wound that will never ever heal. This flame brought us together. This flame will set us apart. But this candle is forgiving. This candle understands.

So just sit back, breathe us,  inhale the moments that we shared. And let this wicked wax bring forth the redolence of the very first and last time that we touched…