hearts: writing between myself and my lover
jack: routine
6 on the die: you are assured of your privacy
[colors, reclaimed; candles left burning, and their meanings.]
[the placard left in the temple— nearly every temple is missing some piece of it, but worshippers know the words by heart even so.]
Upon conclusion of your prayer, please light a candle for your wish, to draw the divine closer to its light!
[these candles were left burning in temples where the unfavored had visited, though no direct connection could be made, as they were never witnessed entering or leaving a temple in the fifty years they were observed]
a lavender candle, sliced nearly in half and yet still burning: a wish for peace for the lighter
(in desperation, allow me to join you, my light)
an aqua candle, dripping wax onto the altar: a plea for mercy
(i have asked you endlessly, my light, why you have left me here alone, and i can only imagine you punishing me for something.)
an indigo candle, left to burn as the only light in the temple: an expression of grieving lost love
(my torch, my beacon, my light, i wait for you and only you, but the memory of your death sticks in my heart. where are you? i cannot find you, not even in my dreams. come home to me.)
a golden candle, burning despite the rain that fell through the roof of a ruined temple: the faintest whisper of hope, sparks re-alighting in the heart
(i know not how long i have been doing this, in every temple, every candle, begging you to listen to me, but something has changed. i can feel it in my blood.)
a black candle, inky, void, cold to the touch but with a pure white flame: never seen before, never seen again, uncertain who left it or who lit it
(F O U N D)
