Answer:
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
As beautiful as the setting sun, as delicate as the morning dew. An angel's dusting from the stars. That can turn the Earth into a frosted moon.
What goes further the slower it goes?
What tastes better than it smells?
It's got twists and turns, but has no curves. Twist it to fix it, turn it to ruin it. What is it?
What language does a billboard speak?