I lost my wings tin years ago. Now I rootin’ in the dust.
But sometines the westerly win blows. And I can see the sea horizon.
That’s a day of the carnivel. I can wear my dress an hat.
I can paint my face in garish colours. The music’ll make me laff.
I’ll take your hand, stranger. I think it’ll be alright.
You haven’t danced in a long lone time. Well neither I.
I got no shoes you got no shirt. What is there to lose?
Just hold me tight and let’s dance. Let’s just one last dance.
So did I tell you stranger? ‘Bout my old man?
Don’t look at me like that. I just wanna salsa.
You got arms to hold me. I kinda need that stranger.
You got soul and swing. I just got my old man.
But I’m no duffer, love. You’re no babbler either.
We got those waves rollin. And the win’s mighty whistlin.
Seabirds got the fugue. Like some yillow fever.
Sands got the groove. We just got too much, stranger.
But I won’t be ’round for the last round. No happy endin.
I’ll hear the echo of the roarin sea. What can we do, love?
Now press me those lips lemme feel the real thing once. Once more.
Before the dust takes me back. Stranger, just kiss me.
Fatima Lasay, San Roque
Monday, March 10, 2014