You see me shine,
And wonder at my light
Not knowing
I am nothing
The wax that runs so hot
The sweet scent of life and lust
It is naught but cold pale wax
Without My Lady
The wick which golden glory births
Is my body
At her touch I burn
And shine with all the love
The desire that rapes the darkness
And screams its joy
And yet
Without My Lady
The cold pale wax of my soul
Lies still and corpse still
The wick of my body
Encased in waxy silence
Cold and lost in endless dark
You who see my glory
And bask in my light
Do you not see?
It is not my light you bask in
Not my heat which warms you
I am only the candle
It is My Lady
Who is the burning
--For My Lady. My scraped knees will heal, but my soul is forever seared by what you wrought in me.