I was not woken by the rooster
Nor by the crow’s tough song
But the midnight cry of a blood red bird
Brought this sleeplessness on

Threw open the window
Moonlight on a black garden of thorns
And the cool wind on my sweat

What cries home
Where cries from
blood red bird lies in the woods
Weeping into dead leaves
With wing torn and jutting bone

What hand bent it to bust
To be ueseless
What hand I could have done it
With two fingers

blood red bird
blood red bird

We can continually sink into each other
Just deep enough to rip out a bit more flesh
When we move away
scarf of skin trailing out behind

Like an arrow
I was only passing through
blood red bird
blood red bird