Single Flame

One candle flickered on a cake,

a breath drawn tight, a quiet break.

No guests, no calls, just empty room,

hum of fridge beneath the gloom.

Smoke spiraled thin against the wall,

a ghost that vanished, fragile, small.

The quiet weighed like lead inside,

a night where silence would not hide.

No laughter filled the close-lit space,

just shadows folding in their place.

That smallness held a brittle grace,

a best birthday lost in space.