Between Bruises & Blooms

The ivy had swallowed
every wall
except the front door.

As though the forest itself
had decided

“Leave one way
for the spirits.”

I lit my candle
at twilight.

The flame was small,
but the darkness
treated it with respect.

No wind.

No birds.

Only the slow creak
of old timber
stretching like tired bones.

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them,

the candle had moved.

Only a few inches.

Just enough
that I knew

I hadn’t been alone
all evening.