Candlelight

I used to see this girl
Who I thought was the love of my life.
She was the kind of girl who you’d think of
When you’re high and stoned
Who you’d want to watch fall asleep
(Always a shiver before she fell asleep)
And then stay awake to watch her wake up.
She was the love of my life.
When she was not around
I would light candles
That would flicker in the rainwind
And hands curled around a blackcoffee mug
I would worry and smile about our love
Mostly smile, but worry too about our love
She was that kind of a girl.

Once when she was
Away for particularly long
And we had had a fight or two
I remembered the candles.
It was a quiet evening
At my parents’ place
So I sat by the window
Of my old bedroom
And I lit the candle
And watched it flicker
Till it died
And my hands curled around a blackcoffee mug
I worried and smiled about our love.
Before going to bed I decided to send her a long winded mail
Full of sunsets and seastorms and starrynightstories
And promises of love
And other things you write
For the woman of your dreams
And I waited till dawn for her to reply
While I wrote more poetry for her
Full of seastorms and unicorns.
She replied days later in a sentence
‘Don’t light candles for me, I’m not dead.’
That night I lit another candle
For the woman of my dreams
And for the seastorms and unicorns
And watched it till it died with a flicker
Worrying about our love.

Much later, after she had finally left for good
(I never doubted that she would)
And I had agreed to be a friend
Because that was all she could take
She asked me to not write poetry
That may hurt her feelings.

To make up for it
And because I was still in love with her
I went over to her place
(Hoping helplessly as always
That she will take me back
And knowing that she won’t).
She was that kind of girl.

She made me watch Bob Dylan concerts
She fed me eggs and soldiers with marmite
And we had dark chocolate for desert.
I made black tea with honey
That she said was too sweet.

She said she had to work, she was working from home
And with her back to me
Forgot I was there for a while.
I watched the back of her neck
The soft sunglow on her honey skin.
And held back my tears with cigarette puffs.
She was that kind of girl.

Later we went for a walk
And bought groceries and a bottle of gin.
It was like old times
And for a while I forgot we were not together,
We laughed and talked of everything and nothing
Till we sat eating burgers and fries by candlelight
And I remembered I was not allowed to kiss her
In this new arrangement.

As I walked home it began to rain.
I held back my tears with cigarette puffs.
I found a dark eyed hippie girl I had met a few days back
In a rundown bar that played fifties jazz
And served salted cucumber with whisky on the rocks.
She took me home and we read poetry under her psychedelic sheets
As the lightning flashed fierce outside.
The power went out and she lit candles
That flickered in the rainwind.
We opened a bottle of cheap wine
Smoked endless spliffs and took off our clothes.
We fucked on the terrace, on her bed and in the shower.
When the power came back on
She played Bob Dylan and I made some black coffee
Holding back tears with cigarette puffs,
Lonely as ever.