In its niche the candle weeps until it self-extinguishes.
Wax and tears collect in the tiny holder.
Becomes more deviant
The more lives it encompasses.
Tiger's claws in a tiger's paws
At the end of each leg, a burning animal
Crouching in the margin of the shade,
In a life that is going away.
The perception of the phantasm
And the phantasm of perception
A tiger that burns inside cognition.
That commands everything revolve around it:
Bird, beetle, butterfly, void.
Tossing all night like a pair of dice
Two nervous systems sojourn together,
Which is iffy.
Ineluctably, a wick is lit for the next incarnation
The next holder over.
By Leonard SchwartzQLRS Vol. 21 No. 4 Oct 2022