Under a loop of stars in the vulgar cold
   The dead airport lay
   By the pebbles of the highway
   Through the snail clouds
   You soared to your lover
   I hurried away my darling
   With a howl in my throat.
  
   Hiding inside the weeds
   In the orange grove,
   The black rooster crowed
   Through the hollow of the midnight.
  
   With my shot blood,
   With stains on my fingers,
   I run with the damned, my darling:
   They have taught me to laugh.