Dolores .. .
.
.
.
call me back Dolores
by the which way we all travel
and the clouds black as oil
your voice that always made me shiver
i listen to the wind whistle
through your shot-blasted hair
how should we have ever known
when the sun ended and tomorrows began
scale those myths and stories
storms you never did by the half
what people wish to believe
more frightening than realities vice
i’m glad i listen to the infinite
to the bleeding lying in the gullies
to the insoluble vagrant in the gutter
to the nightmares worn like curls by demigods
the voice still lingers on
where there are no longer secrets
one more wound to the armour
one more reason to carry on
.
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 