Dancing with cadavers

I'm writing your name on loose sheets of notebook paper and they're burning in to the night sky
Crimson, white, black
The patterns of the velvety stars are all that align my nerves with realty
While the swines are the only ones to ever understand your filthy hands more than I did
I'm washing my mouth in the river
And making music with the currents
Asking mother earth to forsake your soul