Like a candle
Slightly charred
And left on the counter
Too long
So the sun has already
Left its tired prints upon me
I am just a waxy surface
Painted with the color of our love
A pale maroon I suppose
I enticed you with words
Love, passion, romance
Even the aphrodisiac scents of adventure
Still you refused me
You light a match near me
Make me melt off of you
My cumbersone wick
Dripping down your sides
Only to land awkwardly on your clean counter
Where you will wipe the stain of me away
With a paper towel
The same one you used
To clean up the cat shit
At the end of the hall