Dance of the Stingrays


We were dancing on the flat roof of our simple villa

A vintage record player was surrendering ancient songs

 I looked at the Dalmatian clocks

Time was passing us by

 

We were wearing

Only loose clothes

Because of the heat

And had discarded our sandals

 

You and I were far from our mother country

I thought that we would never return

But she had already poisoned us