The edge of my bed,
dry fingers dance through a flame.
Tiny candles after long days
make tired brains tame.

Scented eucalyptus with vanilla,
or whatever you may desire.
Lighting the wick with a match
creates the most soothing of fire.

Pull the drapes,
flip the switch.
Watch shadows dance,
examine the flameā€™s twitch.

A small crackle when it lights,
sizzling with joy.
You can see its mischief
with a smile so coy.

The flame starts small,
shy at first.
But as your attention lingers,
so does its thirst.

Grace Hazlehurst ’19 || Lit Staff

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