Non-Erotic PoetryFlowersAttuk prays to Spirit Moon
And burns my flowers to It
While he smears a suid’s blood
On claws of the short face bear
That Krah and he killed tonight.
But I think that all of my flowers
Should wear their wet every morning.
They smell sweet while Sun is shining
And I plant my new flower garden
With seed that he left on his altar.
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