Africa, not the seething, pulsing, heathen heaven I had hoped for
Failed to give the distance needed
To forget who you are
Or were, to be specific
Since anyways the results of you and your life are marked by finality
the credits have rolled by already and everyone has left the theater
after watching the drama of your life play out
there is not much to say on the subject
You sang that last song to me I think,
full throated and drowing in blood you shed yourself
Me, six months later, I am changed already
Africa did not fail me there
The desert has changed my view and shown me new eternities
even if it has not moved my memory
and I have wriggled out of my past lives
like dead skins and slithered on to my next adventure
and the next adventure and the next
And I am leaving you as you feared
I am always leaving you behind.
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