Non-Erotic PoetryDeep, Slow, TearsCandle's light,
softly billowing wind,
memories burn.
Flower's bright,
gently stilling sin,
sadness yearns.
O, how we spill
cut, not by knife,
deep, slow, tears.
O, how we wilt
thirst, not to quench,
weep, flow, fears.
Deep, deep, deep,
slow, slow, slow,
. . . merge our tears.
Weep, weep, weep,
flow, flow, flow,
. . . purge our fears.
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