Blood on the Snow - 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

There’s blood on the snow

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