blood red bird

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

a 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 useless

what hand i could have done it

with two fingers

a blood red bird

a blood red bird

we can continually sink into each other

just deep enough to rip out a bit more flesh

when we move away

a scarf of skin trailing out behind

like an arrow

i was only passing through

a blood red bird

a blood red bird