#candelier

The Moth and Its Beloved

Ask the moth the beauty of the candle

And it will burn without a confession

There is a secret to its longing

For it feels no fear or hesitation

The moth is too much in love with the flame

Yet it does not appear under the sun

For the moon’s light is far too feeble, and

It gave up on its pursuit of the sun

Just a sight of a candle is enough

To remind it of its real beloved

So it settles for that candle in reach,

Revels in its heat, and asks to be burned

-Caitlin the Queen-

Commission for Garren Lally ;

Link to Video:  https://youtu.be/TFX0M5FZzcw

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Art by Helen Dafne S. F.

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In a small room somewhere downtown in Manhattan there were sitting two people. The only light went from electrical candles and chandelier was under the cellar. It was a dim place, but created some strange feeling, as fog, or as rain, or any other kind of weather would be able to create a specific surroundings, or when two people, which felt in love to each other and an aura was forming around them as protective shield and cut borders for their own world. That what happened here, in a dim room, downtown in Manhattan, two people were sitting under the chandelier and talking whisperly.

How could it be? They asked each other same question hundreds times, and questions were still curious for them, they urged to find answers. “How is it possible that time goes so fast and so slow, that we look at the past day and it seems for us long-gone?” They asked each other, their lips too close for just friends. Or, “is it really true that we’re as puzzles of one body, which was divided once and now have attracted to each other?” Everything seemed for them as fate, as happy coincidence and it could not have happened, but it did. That impressed them more than anything else. They contemplated every freckle, scar, or speck on the face. “I feel you…I feed you”.