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Spaghetti knots


I was a candle before you burnt me

I smelled of pine

Evidence a whole forest was found in my wick

A whole country in my wax

I was a window without a frame

That you could look out upon

Stare and wonder and get drunk off the stars

I was a closet with no clothes

A poor hiding spot for a child

A reminder of needs and wants

And how those two never aligned

I was a shoreline

That met an ocean

That met a river

That met another shoreline

I was a book with no pages

Just the cover

Waiting to be filled

Hoping I’d hold a story of love rather than heartache

Because those stories are better to tell anyways

I was an unlabeled bottle

With liquid frothing back and forth

A green, then a yellow, then a blue

All it took was the right light and angle

I was the hard work in finding both

Then I met you and I was described as all of these things and then some

And you forgot that I was human

And that meant I was more than what they and you and anyone called me

For I was you too

And you were me

And both of us were afraid of those candles and those closets and looking out at a window without its skeleton to hold it

For what is a candle if it does not burn

A closet if there are no clothes

And a window if there is no frame

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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