Gentle lashings of candle lit finger tips dance upon our frames, accentuating an unspoken appreciation of the gift within purity. Given half a chance we would have devoured each other sweetly - before forlorn tenderness drove our bodies to the melodious beat of dreams, and purgatory. We got much more than we bargained for, in the candle lit softness of each other's company... The wondrous re-discovery of those first tender moments, before our bodies ever sank in to each other... How much more could our minds absorb?... Lost within our own fortress of meandering, and fawning. Each portion of you and of I, enriched under the loving graceful watch of the dancing flame, as it generates a room enveloping trance. We can not help but surrender to its unkempt ability to douse out all around us, but the flawless visions of each other. Giving in to the gentle nature of the flickering flame, we take our time in locking gazes of compassion and solace. The wick is low now, and we realise the passionate glow will fade shortly. I’d give half my heart to restore the candle, in an effort to prolong this moment. It spilt forward a flawless domain, in which you and I gave exchanged precious portions of our soul, and our knowledge. Not once did our little candle ask for a return in favour, not once did our little candle sway of intension, but always it gave unconditionally. The soft light dipped into a low, and before long waned until it was no more. It was no more, and we set sail to our separate purgatories.