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

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