Read Poem: Enemy of my enemy no flesh of my flesh, by Renee Bousquet

My acacia tree the grand umbrella sun heat and shade the mix of you……..I the beast using the loins flesh a small morsel for clearing my pallet.

I the pale Rider have made the dark continent my own in soul to spirit. I ask for nothing but life itself to see what should not be seen, from heaven to dust. To many I death personified by sight, to others an other worldly spirit…shunned and venerated which is me.

Desert Sands and the lonely place never the permanent home for the nomadic. The constant March two steps forward one back we call the pulling.

The singing sand it’s haunting I hum alone……..always alone the loneliest of sad songs. The lullaby of the heart I call it, for me, then me, and just me.

It’s the way of it for the dark continents diversity, it like the pulling of the sheets in the mind changing always on the horizon. From north to south and all in between eyes wide to the magic the myth of her.

The soil deep red offers little for the following fool, as without a justification for sweet nectared coffee flowers and honey, the weak Parish withered, in skin wraped bones contorted the empty vessels strewed around me like so many leaves.

It’s to the wondering eyed soul my spirit world, a destiny on the Serengeti doing the whispering to eachother in silence and scene.

Feeling the infrasound of the elephants talking from end to end the deep rumblings, I cry humble tears I the speck amongst the mighty.

Tall grass and you my wind blown Dusky hued Maiden in Morning mist and willdabeast dance. The Horizons filled and fields vultures on the meal of yet another’s flesh. There There is a beauty to the beasts…..predator……pray…….then scavenger’s.

To Kilimanjaro the phallic center of my Africa, your Africa, ours, as I do share not the shellfish one, to our end into the cloud forests and the wild things surrounding us.

The cool place where we fire the heart sweat, and the sweet thigh.The next meal, you my sweet as it’s In the tasting in small portion’s That will last forever plus one…..my sweet dessert. No way to be closer than to consume you complete till there is no more wanting……..which is never.

Upper canopy the new unbrella of sheltering lifes green gift.The air cool in the moment…….as the fires needed we listen to the peacock talk our soothing, forest sounds the accompaniment the Orchestra the world travelers delight.

The enemy of my enemy I say not, but flesh of my flesh more fitting, as once consumed we two… will be one…. and no more…… I shall ride the black beast to continents end, as I the owner Africa my Africa, no enemy of my enemy flesh of my flesh no longer.