A cigarette sits pressed between his lips, tipped and lit, it’s bittersweet
Twirled through calloused fingertips, he flicks and kills it with his feet
Searing sun, palo verde tree, back meets bark, he feels the heat
Hand meets heart, he feels it beat, stares and sighs, it’s incomplete

Is there love for these hearts? is there beauty for these eyes?
Can we get some peace of mind? is there truth for all the lies?

He bites his lip and rubs his eye, holds his breath and shoos a fly
Squints and scans the sweeping sky. wonders when and whispers, “why?”
He feels it deep and wants it bad to fill the cavern in his core
Chicken scratch on his warn notepad, lonely latch on a labyrinth door

Rosy mouth, resplendent hair, her garden grows in golden light
She paints a picture, prays a prayer and kisses away his night
Holding her helps him forget his unavailing breath
His fleeting, failing, futile course and his impending death