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Bougie boite

She strikes a match
A momentary flash
Quickly dissipating
Enveloped by the thick ebony night

She reaches into choking darkness
Afraid to breathe
Unable to recall the room
That was briefly illuminated

Under her hand she senses
Long, flat, corners: a box
Opened it reveals its contents
Smooth, tapered, hope

Another match finds its mark
Burning wick
Steadily glowing, chasing darkness
Her world wonderfully defined