Painless ghosts, nof which she knows, nthe smell in her clothes, nthe smell in her nose. nThere's blood on the snow. nnBring your love, nit's on your tongue, nit's on your roads, nand in your toes. nThere's blood on the snow. nnTuesday's violence, nwe're alone. nnInto their beds they approach their doom. nTheir heads, their lips, their chests, their hips, they walk. nThem bones they move, they talk. nTheir bones they bleed they rot. nnTheir tones they're forged, they're wrought, ninto what they're not.