By dope fiend (thefixisin@yahoo.com)
Date: 16 May 2000

scene in america deserta

and you said
you didn't want to sleep here
'cause you were afraid
of what you might dream 
about.
and the wind blew hot
off the desert
through the open windows
that day.

and we talked
of how fragile
all this really is
and how much goes unsaid--
how much we couldn't say
even if 
we wanted to.

and when the words ended
that day,
tears ran down your face,
and nothing i could do
could stop it.
christ,
you were beautiful
and complicated
and precious and rare--
but you were as much mine
as the alkali dust,
as the rain.