A Tale of a Man, a Wretched Sky and a Beautiful Dove

Bandaids litter the floor
of a bloody, bloody man.
A woman's pocket knife slowly willows into his skin,
and he died
for a second from panic.

The darkness swallowed him whole.
This is a story of a good man
who became too broken to cry.
Her eyes shadowed his sky,
dark and full of rain,
wasting water in a desert
where only lives a man who wants to die.

This man remembers her, hiding his face from her sky
(she'll always live above his head,
entertaining Martian men in space).
This is the story of a whistle.
Noah's dove calling with a twig.
Now, this bloody, bloody man
knows the storm is over.
Love those who pierce the sky,
a dove that pierces the sky and will still come back to you
with earth in her hands to keep you standing on the ground.

This is the story of a man who will never love the sky again.
He'd rather be off by a pond.
No moon, no sun; holds moonflower or sunflower in his hands.
He's in love with a bird, the strongest woman he's ever known.

Visit him from the skyline of trees.
Tweet, tweet little birdy. No sky, no star,
no sun, no moon,
no nothing, no woman,
brings light like you.
Everybody, she pierces the light with her face towards the horizon.
Dove, your legs are marble pillars like some Song of Solomon
lifting you above the world so I can see your mid-winter face
in front of the racy-red backdrop.

And I cry. If you don't show me your flower bloom,
I cry.
If you don't open soon,
I cry.
But you flutter in the sky, visiting me twice.
They say that on the third mission Noah's dove never returned...
She went out on her own journey...
Whatever you want, you have a home
if you find no place to rest and don't want to be strong.