The Dun Raven
Claws on bough,
A beak ready to serrate your eyes,
Prepare your heart through ribs,
Milk your stomach for liquid and fragments,
Flaps of tongue,
A blood darkness screws your thoughts,
Clamps your softness in iron,
Wires a mismatched love into ice,
Drugs your light.
Ugly pain stops your air.
Break this year like a bottle.