Thread drowning in wax—
you’re so close, and yet so far.
Fire melts the wax and burns the thread;
you’re so far, and going even further away.

You’re gone.

The wax that remains after the last
embers of the fire have extinguished
lays on my fingertips,
where I once held you dearly.

The warm wax—your warm skin.
My burnt skin reminds me
of the hurt you’ve caused;
my burnt skin
reminds me of the devastation
you’ve laid in your wake.