Candles that cast cast red unto the night night that settles into corners corners whose edges flicker gently gently my love know me me who is not beautiful or sweet Sweet is for flowers that close at dark dark is for the rustling you do not see see my sound hear my touch touch my face without lust or love Love your inability to look away away from glinting eyes that stare stare though there is but little to see see past anything day could frame Frame this fearful symmetry symmetry of a darkness burning bright bright as the candle that burns between between the bindings of you and me (Please enjoy my silly little nod to William Blake, it was my mother's favourite poem when I was young.)