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The lifeless wick in defiance
sends up her streams of perfumed smoke-
gray and white swirling
in pursuit of my flesh
My thirsting palms gently inhale-
the dancing remnants of blue flame
as I, in jest, laugh on my charade
So disillusioned by that- which
I choose to believe
For what is
and where lies
true insight
In fire's death or in the
Warming wax-
Waiting to be discovered
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