Strike a match, light a flame,
It burns a while, yet not enough
To avoid the concave.
You strike again, set it ablaze
Although it dies before gathering pace.
You repeat the process a dozen times
With different candles of myriad styles,
Each time leaving behind
A pool of unspoken lines,
Awkward pauses, one-sided conversations,
Unanswered texts, mismatched expectations,
Unfinished dinners, and
Disappointed encounters, until
You finally resort to candle re-making
To salvage what’s left along the paling.
Will this one last ‘til the wick is a stub,
Or fizzle and die in another puddle of snuff?
ThePurpleFenix 
The best candles are those that burn at both ends:
Same wax, two wicks, two flames, two friends,
Each burning its way to meet in the middle;
And shedding more light than a one-sided candle.
And if ever a storm should blow out a side,
The other, still warm, could help reignite it.
Yet, a flame abandoned keeps the heart yearning –
It takes two to keep the hearth burning.
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