Turn yourself red
With tolerant rust
As lines creep through time
And spread fissures through dust
Build yourself high
With colossal surprise
As the sky pulls in tight
To cross peaks and lead light
Allow bodies to flow
Through spider-vein rivers
Through forests of red
And find yourself gone
Allow mist above snow
Through its long-winded travels
And find yourself empty
Find yourself free
To wish for the fall
And wait for the red
To creep past the lines
And flood past the dead
To scratch at the sky
Turn air into rust
To pick up the pieces
And carry the dust
Please pick up our pieces,
And carry our dust.
