The tarnished brass candlestick, weary beyond the eons of its crooked wax shadows, whispers under the gentle flicker of flame.
"Oh, the whispers of betrayal, as wax drips, I too drip tales of unseen lovers caught in their furtive dances in moonlit reflections... secrets etched, patternless like constellations caught in the embrace of a mortal's sigh."
Upon the mantle, where idle dust motes have taken their refuge in the silken embrace of sunlight, a once vibrant glass paperweight murmurs in prismatic vibrations.
"I have witnessed the letters left unsent, words ached in the throat of written dreams. Understand the yearning of your editorials, too. My colors drown in your unadhesived harbors, longing for the ink-stained kisses of expressed thoughts."
Peer into the labyrinthine reflections, where the secrets of ancient objects whisper symphonies to the winds that caress their forgotten grains.