my special candle

my special candle

fiction
Edward w Pritchard




You said you saved that candle that you lit that night for me,
special, in your dresser drawer,
although you did not know me before then, when you had saved the candle,
saved the candle through times you being an innocent young girl,
but pursued,
then being the night special that you lit the candle for us,
at least you saved it, the special candle; for the me unknown to you,
before then when you lit the candle for me, myself,
you wanting the candle to burn special when lit,
course,
I don't know now if I believe what you said then or actually if I could believe you ever,
that is believe what you said, now or then, after what happened later than that candle being lit for us,
much later, after then,
much later, after,
no more us,
still it was romantic,
you in your head to toe pink sheer peignoir and me propped up in bed on one elbow there in the second floor apartment;
 I said you were the most beautiful woman I ever espied;
still I don't know if I believe what I said before,
when the special candle was burning,
casting a special light there in the apartment,
you in your pink peignoir,
and me thinking I could be the only one,
me saying,
I would never forget you.