Portion - universityofafricanart.org

Reflected doubly forward
In blood waters
Of boiling lakes,
Where lineal prints
Of our for fingers
Are raised against our own selves
With a rubber eraser.
Their eraser was cast into
Flowing waters down
Behind seven village groves.
Is it my fault
That I was at the river
When they came to fish?
They galloped out of the grasses,
Tall as forbidding mountains
In fat silhouettes of dawning sun,
Their shadows cast broadly
In turbaned torsos
With slit eyes
Focused at my breasts.
What stupid questions
Could I ask
When I spoke human tongues
They respond with a tang
Of flashed horse whips,
Lashing lacerated fleshes
Into shreds of choking shrieks?