Just like a dove on fire
Correct flight isn't possible
In weather I wasn't built for
I try to hear you sigh
As soon as it's barely audible
I left a rag on the window sill
So you can bleed your knives dry
In spending so much time
The degradation material
I never found it so beautiful
Just like a dog on fire
The rind and bark rotting visceral
I saw myself on the carousel
And you can bleed your knives dry