High above the horses' corral, the sun
Cutting in the deserted streets
Shutters closed
No fighters and no smugglers
no silver diggers, no luck
Only angry eyes that have seen her
Men go around with clubs
they comb out all the houses
That angel has to leave
I pull her inside, next to my pounding heart
she kisses me until it is over, the dog is alert
and licks her hand, mama is working
dad drinks all day
We wait for the night
I will go with her
away from here, this is not my home
it is a grave, a hollow stone
on which my name never will be written
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 3:29 AM UTC
High above the horses' corral, the sun
Cutting in the deserted streets
Shutters closed
No fighters and no smugglers
no silver diggers, no luck
Only angry eyes that have seen her
Men go around with clubs
they comb out all the houses
That angel has to leave
I pull her inside, next to my pounding heart
she kisses me until it is over, the dog is alert
and licks her hand, mama is working
dad drinks all day
We wait for the night
I will go with her
away from here, this is not my home
it is a grave, a hollow stone
on which my name never will be written
Tombstone, Arizona
(where the “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral” took place)
Collection "Bruises"
