Her love is Africa. Tender and nascent.
Like a green little girl, she gave every pearl in her belly.
Her kiss is African air. Filled with dusty taste of freshness
and sweet breath.
Her embrace is African song. Warm and cosy to my soul.
Her voice, a lullaby to my intoxicated heart.
She is as hot as Sahara.
And as deep as Nile. She is white and blue.
She is Kilimanjaro. Her beauty, an eruption.
My heart, a hapless victim.
She is Africa.
I am her son.