Tea Lights

Vision in Tea Lights

We make our own sanctuary, here in a small apartment tucked away in a corner of the city. You set tea lights throughout the room, open a bottle of wine, put on some Spanish music and curl up on the sofa. I stay here, across the room, wine glass in hand, wanting to see you from a distance. Perfect moments don’t come often, and I wanted to frame it here in memory. From your face glowing there in the dark I see your eyes framing me, a content smile on your lips. I want to taste them, but a tranquility like this leaves one feeble, and I don’t have the strength to cross the room. My passing would only disturb the candlelight and shift the perfect glow reflecting off the table, the wineglass, your cheek. Better to stay here and learn to reach out with that part of myself that is beyond the body. But now the wine is drained, the music falls low, and the candles go out one by one like stars at dawn. I wonder for only a moment if sleep is claiming me now, or if it had hours earlier.