#100Poems: Number Five

The candle flickered between us
as we ate our dinner in comfortable silence.
At one point, he put his fork down and said,
“Are there two flames in that candle?”

So I stared at it for a moment.

I watched the candle.
He watched me.
Our food got cold.

“Nope. That’s an optical illusion.
The second flame is a reflection on the crystal.
I cleaned it this morning.”

“Oh,” he said, and went back to eating.
“It’s two flames,” he said again.

I smiled and nodded.

“Yes.”

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