Naught For Thee

I wondered if you would have thought of changing the light bulb before you left. But you didn't, and now I'm stuck sitting in a room full of candles. 


It was as if you wanted me to do this, knowing full well I couldn't change the bulb for myself. 


But hark, my dear, this candlelight vigil is naught for thee, rather, for my aching heart and lacking adequacies in domestic duties. 


Rest your heart, your head, beloved, thine hopes for the hopeless, for resting thy assurances in the delicate shadows and reflections and none in your memory, I find comfort in the memory of light not by fire, but by deeds.