I promise to blow the last candle with you (poem)
I promise to blow the last candle with you,
you told me, with that look in your eyes,
the one that always spoke more than a thousand words.
Every year, on every birthday,
in front of the cake, in front of the flickering flame,
we made the air dance together,
we blew out the candles, side by side.
But it’s been two years since you’ve gone,
since your hands no longer touch mine as the light fades,
since your laughter no longer fills that moment,
and every flame now feels so lonely,
so distant without you.
They ask me, with surprise, with curiosity,
why I no longer blow out the candles on my day,
why the fire stays lit,
and I just whisper, with a truth full of sorrow:
“She’s no longer here,
and we already blew out the last candle together.”
Every year since that day,
the cake still sits there,
the candles still burn bright,
but the air remains still,
because the promise was kept.
