What was it about the dust
That carved its way into my heart
That spoke the unspeakable words
Of the night
Endless tears that cause the air to stop
That break the stones
That whisper your name
In every bar
That never sleeps
That dances the dance of the newly dead
Who do not yet realize they must cross over
They must leave the taste of dust behind
Forsake this land of eyes and hands
The heat that twists its way into my hair
Has your face
This dream of rain
A flood that gathers me into its arms
These are the dogs of Mexico
This endless roaming pack
That stampedes my heart
Leaves echoes of
A thousand unnamed nights
In your arms.
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