took it out of its cage and inspected it
that ghost in the frost-killed roses
on a stack of Bibles my left hand
reading my fortune the lines of desire
emerges from the fog with an animus
against time and the speed of wind
took it out of its cage and inspected it
that ghost in the frost-killed roses
on a stack of Bibles my left hand
reading my fortune the lines of desire
emerges from the fog with an animus
against time and the speed of wind