West Texas Town

I am. I was. I will be. Or will I? No. No. It’s all the same. I walk. I stand. I fall. It is done. No matter. Where was I? The town. El Paso. Yes. El Paso. Where was she? Felina. Yes. I remember. I don’t. I did. I do. I’m here. She’s not. She was. Not now.

I loved her. I loved her. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. The eyes. Black. The eyes. Night. They pulled me. They pulled. Yes. No. Maybe. Yes. I loved her. But love? Love is. What? What is it? I don’t know. I knew once. I don’t now.

The eyes.

Black as night.

I saw from his outfit that he was a cowboy. A man. A young man. He was wild. He was. I saw him. He saw me. I saw him. He came. I stood. What did he do? He laughed. He drank. I drank. I did. No. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I should have. I could have. I didn’t. He reached for the gun. The gun. Yes. The gun. It was there. I wasn’t. I should have. I did.

I fired. It was quick. Too quick. It was too late. It was too quick. Too quick. He was dead. He was on the floor. I didn’t know. I did. I didn’t. No. I didn’t. I don’t. I didn’t. I ran. I ran. I had to run. Where? To the back. To the door. To the horse. Yes. The horse. It was waiting. It was not waiting. It was always waiting. I didn’t wait. I was. I wasn’t. I was.

I rode. Fast. Faster. But slow. So slow. I couldn’t outrun it. The wind. The sand. The night. It was always there. Always. It was waiting. I was. I was gone. I wasn’t. Gone. I don’t know. Where was I going? I don’t know. Somewhere. Anywhere. I thought of her. Her eyes. Those eyes. Black. The night.

The desert. The badlands. Empty. Empty. Empty. Horse with no name. I was. Was I? I wasn’t. I was. I thought of her. I think of her. I don’t. I do. I did. She’s not here. She’s not anywhere. She was. She will be. Come a little bit closer. I’m all alone. And the night is so long.

It doesn’t matter. I didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. The pain. The pain. It is worse than nothing. But it’s not. It is. But it’s not. I am. I am nothing. It’s been so long. Too long. Couldn’t resist. Just one little kiss.

I’m here. On the hill. I can see the town. I can see her. Rosa’s. Yes. I see it. I’m here. I’m not.

The horse is gone. It’s not gone. It’s gone. The men are here. Five. No. Six. No. More. They come. They’re coming. But I’m not. I won’t be. I heard José say: “Man, you know you’re in trouble plenty.”

I move. I don’t move. I can’t move. I want to move. I can’t. They are here. They’re too close. They won’t wait. They won’t. They will. They won’t.

My side. It hurts. My side. My chest. It hurts. It doesn’t hurt. It’s not there. I fall. I’m on the ground. Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down.

The horse is gone. It’s not. It’s never gone. It’s not. It doesn’t matter. The cows are in the meadow eating buttercups.

I can’t breathe. I won’t breathe. I didn’t breathe. She is here. Felina. Yes. No. Maybe.

She kneels. Her hands. Cold. She touches my face. I don’t know why. I don’t know how.

She doesn’t speak. She just looks. She’s looking. I don’t know what she’s looking for. I don’t know.

I can’t see. It’s too dark. The light is gone. It’s never here.

I loved her. I did. I will. I won’t. She kissed me. She didn’t kiss me. I kissed her. I didn’t.

I’m gone. I was never here. I will never be.

One little kiss. Felina, goodbye.