My Tongue was Africa
Then darkness stirred in silent dance
With poison on its wing
And hunger
It drove like an assembly line
Hand in hand to catatonic rhythms
Like wings
In synchophonic dance halls
That hunted heavens
Of celestial sex;
My tongue was darkness,
A spear,
Burning into you,
Entering without apology
Until the jungle of your body was strewn with oil:
my skin was pure,
My tongue was africa.