God waits with scorpions in his toes and vultures in his hair.

[krowface]

 The last few shards of the setting sun shatter over the edge of a far dusty horizon.

Calmly watching, the sun sets the sky ablaze with a final outcry of crimson. 

Every moment in the light is another moment where I feel the air pull the moisture right out of my bones.

I'm standing still and resting calm against an adobe wall as my heavy eyes sink down.

Watching the Dragoons drown against a setting sun.

Chiricahua restless against my ear cries a filthy story.

Hundreds dead and forgotten, bleached white bones under an unforgiven sky.

Fingertips burnt and singed. Heavy irons rest on hipbones.

Marching into the sunset. 

A weight too heavy as a sky folds neatly above.