Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
Horse Feathers
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