The valentine’s candle

smells like Hayden’s house

deep amber and vetiver

when I was a teenager

floating on the warmth

of sponge-painted yellow

walls, companion

novelty and wondering

how I’d fit

you’re mellow

they told me

but I don’t know

think I was just

quiet and still

observing the smokedrift

listening, watching

and waiting to see

what was expected

and who

I might be

 

Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash