Were I to deny it,
seeking to pass for what I'm most certainly not,
Africa slithers in my veins.
I trust not like the vicious black mamba.
Africa bellows in my dusk,
approaches the breaking point when I am edgy.
I trust not like boisterous hippos,
when they snap in two unsuspecting crocodiles.
I dance Africa in dainty my footsteps,
and like pulse is to the heart, reflection ---
drumbeat is to the heartbeat's instinctive
inflections
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