i use playing cards as bookmarks
reading about the yams
in the heart of Nigeria
and the men are tall and brutal
and the women are strong and wise
the spirits dwell
the children play
the elders sing
and then i look up,
a fleeting moment of glass reflection
but no, it is glass perception
a man disappearing into a door
into the wardrobe he goes
i wonder...
-Pamplemousse
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