these tremors grow beneath my toes the crest of the ripple s dark red glow like embers beneath the quiet moon with a lion s paw it keeps my horses captive like a band of outlaws even the darkest night needs an ally against the morning light and every word my lips suggest that s between my lips and the american west sat in the crooked range with a desert breath the steadfast threat of evening hanging over my head over some jagged trains that fade from sight and melt in silver rivers soaked in midnight