neither this sobbing ocean
in the moon of your swelling voice
nor the milky vapor
on the window of my waking
nor this flood of men
in the margin of my shadow
which yearns for a safe shelter
not the slipstreams on camelback
in the desert of my solitude
nor the spindrift nor the seaweeds
pillows for my storm-filled head
are able to decipher
where I inspect myself in vain
the reverse side of mirrors.
-Mukala Kadima-Nzuji
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