Three Candles

born to be

three candles, restive,

splutter

aimlessly, in dance,

enclosed in red,

filter gloom within

one room,

still’d, silent

sounds below the level,

water-fed.

reflective balls

upon a surface

sounding

pops invisible,

they rise to air,

mellow’d

three-times

flutter’d darkness,

oblivion observed,

I wander there.

no one touches like

the touch of water,

submersion soft,

a sensual

soporific haze,

three candles, struck from one,

a scarlet wonder,

ending sweetly

waxen musings

on a rainbow’d melted day.