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407 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2021
He was handsome. Divine. Devilish. During the day, he smelled of death. At night, he was a whirlwind of the most exhilarating scents of the Kuba forest. The love of my life. The man responsible for my demise.
Getting close to him, or, really, letting him get close to me, got me burned. But when you're a butterfly in Kasaï, lulled to sleep by the melody of your own wingbeats in the humid night air, the only thing that matters in life is getting burned. Every breath brings you closer to forbidden flames. I came into this world to unsettle the peace of those around me. Whatever the cost.
And to end as dust.
“Still, he had held on to the wound and not life, to decadence and not revival. He said he was a man of a bygone era.”
"You must always remember this — never would the White Man have been able to conquer the multitudes that still lie at his feet centuries after they cried for ‘liberty’ . . . if he hadn’t already written their history for them."
“For as long as the earth has been our shared home, peoples have met, sometimes in joy, sometimes in pain, sometimes caught up in happiness, sometimes under the yoke of barbarity. It’s not the wounds they inflict upon each other that matter the most once time finally lifts the veil from our illusions. What matters, son, is that the children who come after learn to build a less repugnant world than the one they inherited.”