when i was a little girl
my mother told me:
you shall be a dancer.

and i remember this particular thought:
i will dance by the wind
with the sea
into the night.

when i was a rebel
leaves shattered by broken boys
my father used to say:
watch out for loneliness.
you must be kind,
wavy eyes,
melted rivers and
floating dreams.

and i remember this particular night
lost in someonelse's bliss
when sky fell off into
words.
never been so blue, i guess.

but now,
now that i am a smog,
across the streets,
towards wild trees in plain July,
i say:
i will dance.
i will dance with the lonesome dawn
in my red red red
ballroom.