Non-Erotic PoetryA Residue RemainsI love you...
Not as a match
Flares to life
Burns quickly down
Scorching fingertips
Before being dropped
Skittering away
In a sudden gust
But with the slow intensity
Of the quietly burning candle
That melts and drips
Minute by minute, hour by hour
Reforming itself into
A pool of rippled wax
Even when scraped away
A residue remains
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