Tigs Huertas

Dusty Buds (from Life And Times)

Too hot to play the afternoon
in dusty streets all quiet then
so we'd sleep a while at siesta time
dream of rivers, winding and rough
I don't remember gentle things
aside from how my salted skin
would take the warmth and hold it there
it turned the whiskers white.
And other things came creeping too 
- a hunger you may never know- 
by moonlight we stalked through ghost fields 
we watermelon thieves 
Never was I lonely then
being always gang of three.
We roamed the streets until the dark
came creeping, ink on silk