Your song, like fire, burned into
the daylight skies over Mexico.
The cactus words stripped my hands.
These hands which held the
Universe above you for a long
Steel barrel you called Daylight.
I heard you when you said you
loved me, saw you ride away.
The cactus leaked and I watched
Your name form on the sand.
You turned and mixed me with
Jose Cuervo until I was footed
and could say goodbye.
The skies, painted by numbers,
wolfed down the landscape
In which I have been
erased.
Caroline Shank
9.20.23
Sep 20, 2023
Sep 20, 2023 at 9:45 AM UTC
Your song, like fire, burned into
the daylight skies over Mexico.
The cactus words stripped my hands.
These hands which held the
Universe above you for a long
Steel barrel you called Daylight.
I heard you when you said you
loved me, saw you ride away.
The cactus leaked and I watched
Your name form on the sand.
You turned and mixed me with
Jose Cuervo until I was footed
and could say goodbye.
The skies, painted by numbers,
wolfed down the landscape
In which I have been
erased.
Caroline Shank
9.20.23
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