Taper

Candle (n.)

The purple one of St. Martin de Porres I bought at Shopper's in Virginia as a gag gift.

The memorial one with Lauren's father's name at the yearly Fight Against Cancer festival on the mall.

The one that smells like pines and makes our house not smell like shit.

The ones that still sit in the back of the kitchen cabinet in the house where I grew up that my parents keep for emergencies.

The ones on restaurant tables that never shed enough light to make anything brighter but somehow make all the difference in terms of atmosphere.

The Shabbat ones.

The ones with light bulbs that people plug in.

The one that the little boy held at the funeral for his friend that I took a picture of for the newspaper.

The one they sing about in Rent.

The ones in Paris in San Chapelle that a woman was kneeling in front of and praying to in French.

Every single one every used to write by after everyone else had gone to sleep, and all the wax that dripped onto all tables where they stood.