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Fleur-De-Luce
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Winterpills
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1
Bitter fields we bled on, slept then fled on,
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sixty-thousand leaves on frilly beds we killed on
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spinning sightless, eyes like seashells crumble, cave of
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vapored honey, glow of water
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brothers bathed in borrowed sheets we alived lived in till
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we'd give in ruby-filled honey.
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Fleur-de-luce. All my lovely goners.
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Fleur-de-luce. All my lovely goners.
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Muddy path through birch trees,
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back is aching, bending, pounding blue heart.
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Running faster skyward wending,
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stopping looking up and stinging eyelids,
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weeping sky descends in colors
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o'er the dome of sleeping.
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Fleur-de-luce
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all my lovely goners.
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Fleur-de-luce
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all my lovely goners.
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Hang the harps on trees again.
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The blood is mingled with the rain.
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Hang the harps on trees again.
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The blood is mingled with the rain.
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Fleur-De-Luce (Fleur-De-Luce),
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All my lovely goners.
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Fleur-De-Luce, (Fleur-De-Luce)
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All my lovely goners.
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Fleur-De-Luce, (Fleur-De-Luce)
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All my lovely goners.
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