Congo

hidden
deep
within your poison stream
like a canker
bleeding the edges,
blind and terrible,
they slowly wait
for night to crawl away.
it's thick and bleak out there
with a heat
coiled to maim
and eyes that violate
a landscape
that hurts.
women pray to forget
what claws from
the wet darkness.
bellies swell
unspeakable
under blood moon skies
too torn for tears;
and wounds,
a harsh angel
where smiles should be,
are the only witness
left gaping
at the cold dawn.