Written for flight, on a breeze,
Sent in this realm to another
Tip of the thumb hold heat
the last lighter, last pack of Reds,
Ink seep with despair, burn in the air,
little spot of blood, kneel palm pressed,
to her last breath, 

I’ll straighten her room, there’s nothing left to do,
Straighten her room, find her last dress,
I’ll burn the letter with the last lighter,
used for the last shot