I am no man’s wife,
the mother of no child.
I live as a single candle
burns, alone on the windowsill,
a pinprick of light
in a dark world.
Days melt away as hours
run down the second hand.
The room goes dim
as the wick grows short.
I am no man’s wife,
the mother of no child,
and I shall not be missed
when my flame fades to smoke.