You made me the sweetest bird of paper Written on it were lovely memories Of times when you and I didn't feel so alone We mistook that time for happiness, For love. I took it and as it nestled into my palms, palms which had felt every bit of your skin As I thought of hot nights and cool lies, And the moment you realize Love had long since become a nighttime activity, The bird caught on fire in my hands But didn't burn my red palms