S l e e p y   S a n d

( A l e s s a n d r o   R a g a z z o n   -   B r u n o   D e  F a v e r i )


She left the hut
Early Sunday morning
Local boys still snoring
Her head still buzzing
For the booze of the night before

She reach the beach
In the fleeble green twilight
Oozing out from the canopy
Of the palm trees
And she cleaned her
Bloodstained hands
In a leaf of banian

Enough of his whistle calling
Enough of sharing her emotions
With other women
Enough of this unbelievable paradiso
Enough of his smart drugs

She walked on the still dreamin’ sand
She waded in the waters

. . . That’s all Folks!