Singer:horse feathers
painless ghosts
of which she knows
the smell in her clothes
the smell in her nose
there's blood on the snow
bring your love
it's on your tongue
it's on your roads
and in your toes
tuesday's violence
we're alone
into their beds they approach their doom
their heads
their lips
their chests
their hips
they walk
them bones they move
they talk
their bones they bleed they rot
their tones they're forged
they're wrought
into what they're not