I look down and my hoof is clovennBlack blisters on my family photographsnBlood in my mouth and shit on my fingersnI can't move till light stops touching my face, but I don't think I wannanI'm turning into stonenSparrows perching on my shoulder make me forget the taste of bloodnMy dirty body begs for curtains to be drawnnLong red ribbons touch my eyes to the floornmy bones bend each hand to six fingersnI can't move till the light stops touching my face, but I don't think I wannanI'm turning into stonenThe sparrow perching on my shoulder made me forget what I was talking aboutnBeware the white ghost.