Salvador - Sara Hickman

Salvador, your father named you

After a dead brother

And your mother hung the cross upside down

Salvador, so much of time hung over

Old men’s sleeves

The prick of guilt’s thorn rusted and worn

Sewn into our hearts in the shape of a star

Up the alley I stop at a window

Through the curtains I see

Figures moving, figures swaying

Figures talking in time

Paintings of persistence

Paintings of persistence hung like a jury

Searching and seeking

Silent icons I wipe the dust from my hands

Salvador, no one believes me

But I swear I know what I’m doing

And once you were painting

The ground you were breaking

But it?

s never enough to gain their approval

Up the alley, the window is broken

The sky’s on the ground

They unravel the rope of unreason

They will hang me for sure

Searching and seeking their silent icons

They wipe the blood from their hands

Salvador, they want a savior

And they crowned you king

They begged you for answers

But the glory or fame took away time

From your obligations

Keep on sleeping, don?

t awake from this dream

I?

ll comb your mustache, I’ll wipe your body

I’ll kiss your feet when they take you

Down from the cross