Burned Braided Cotton

Never Shoot The Whale

My mom loves candles

Her morning routine each day used to include

Lighting whatever candle she had sitting beside the fish bowl,

The house always smelling of blueberry pancakes, cinnamon or sugar cookies

Though she has since moved on to a candle warmer,

In favor of the stronger aroma and how much longer it took to dissipate,

I still find comfort in surrounding myself with the soft lighting and subtle smells

This morning, in the midst of my own routine,

As I lit a candle I have been burning each day for the last few weeks

And struggled to light the sad bit of threads left in barely half an inch of wax,

I thought about the way people are often treated

I imagined the spines that support them as wicks

Running through the center of their bodies,

Which have been molded and uniquely designed , no scent the same

View original post 105 more words

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s