men left africa.
i left them, too. i went back to the caravan cart
and sat with my white feet
under the tarp, and watched them stream out of
the savannah, a great dark comet
rolling his way across the motherland.
i left them, and i stayed on the continent. i stayed
alone, but i did not count on the bugs
coming to roost in me, the little mosquitos
all intending to colonize their larvae
in my blood.
the last pavilion 