White Heron

egyptians hold kisses in waves
letting go of everything that i tried to save
your hands still move up my sleeves
your room ruderess ressing reaves
draw me still
draw me still

three men stood in the clearing
staring at the wild white heron
some glasses of wine and a pen
what you take away you can't give back again
draw me still
draw me still

broken wings won't bring you home
soft white tendons, long hollow bones
you hung those feathers from your ceiling
so the women you bring home lay down loud
mobiles are made for turning
and the women you bring home lay down loud