I Am a Softer Me
By:
Mark Sutherland
I
am
a candle
waxing—
Moon? Not
as much.
More shine
the closer fire
consumes my
melting
head
expanding as I shed
us to find
me
in the
traces of light
peering
from those shadows,
scars of
ash, and
your burnt
face
up to the
demons. Smoking
nostrils
flare without snarling
darling,
and the sting in
this throat
tells me
I need this
solitude.
I’m
terrified of melting
I’m done
with being hard—
softened
wax suits me
even when I
know
I’m melting
away.
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