The black figure of my body above your window as you're dreamin'nI came to wake you and take you up northnThe yard was wet, the heavens forget the way things are seemin'nFor us who must stumble in yards dark as horsesnnYour dream went like this, John the Baptist came back vapor veilednWith grand expectations for what he had startednAnd you couldn't resist, you gave him the gist about how things failednAnd how all but one fire-heart had departednnAnd that you were her, and you were surenThat you had the Blood, that you had the BloodnThat all is made ofnAnd that is alright, that is alrightnI can't think of a better dovenTo carry the BloodnnThe canal was bright, its innards ignite when moon stretches tightnTo show the cargo the floating is glidingnThe edges are dark, it's channeled by bark, it carries the marknOf every speckle of guilt I was hidingnnThe bathroom does taste of menstruation chasing night-musk through window screennLike wounded doves all pretty things bleednLike my highway dream, Judas redeemed for the one kiss he rode onnOur spirits ride canals and never in deedsnnDeeds do go, and deeds do notnCarry the Blood, carry the BloodnThat all is made ofnCarry it right, all through the nightnTill you see what we are ofnA dove that carries the Blood