Blood sweeping mirrors
[bad word] through the night
Once we return
for something we lost down there
Sister, we'll turn to nothing
You drip with languid ash
Our heartbeats go
in dust to dust to dream
The slopes of our memory tremble
where we are killed
The toil of your broken eyes
are opening
And the hour begins
Night was no longer as we knew her
The ailing hour became the way
Sister, sister
We drown in living silver
Immutable like deaths
Remembering
the tracks we found down there
It's singular, like suffering
It's all I'll ever gain
Returning now
to take us there again [bad word] back
into the clouds
in its white
I see you pray
Blood sweeping mirrors
[bad word] through the night
Once we return
for something we lost down there