They tell me the flame dances.
I have yet to experience such a thing.
I see the fire, she does not dance.
she is trying to escape.
when the fire goes out, I see a sigh.
a sigh of relief.
A gentle exhale of humility.
Born from an anxious and violent struggle.
Stillness.
There is no longer a flame.
it has gone out. it has escaped.
what it left is warmth and darkness.
all soon to be overtaken by the coldness of night.
I am left cold. in the dark. the flame long gone.
I am glad.
I see the sunrise.
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